Why Did The Fallen Angel Fall?
by StaciAnnR
Summary: Why did the fallen angel fall? And did he have to? All of Heaven's gossip was true - Castiel loves Dean. Dean wants to dirty his angel up six ways to Sunday, but he's trying to be good! Between Cas talking dirty to Dean in the closet & virtuous sinning, something's gotta work out, right? Sam takes a trip to crazy town as Cas creates a battle plan to get Dean naked and willing - HEA
1. Chapter 1

AN: Spoilers? I have no clue. I haven't watched Supernatural in order in so long I can't remember the timeline. I think I'm sort of beyond the end of the world (for now), and patching together whatever I like. So, sure. Spoilers I guess? Also, this is my first fic in more than ten years. The outline is done – 3500 word outline, so maybe a million chapters?

The first few chapters are kind of short, but we get smutty pretty fast ;)

**S-S-S-S-S**

Why does the caged bird sing? The question has puzzled man since thoughts became deeper than where the next meal would come from. Why would a free creature trapped in a cage still sing its joy?

But the question is trivial compared to the question a humble man tasked with writing the word of God once asked aloud to himself.

Why did the Fallen Angel Fall?

Different scholars tell us that Lucifer, the most well-known of the fallen, fell because he refused to love humans above all else, even God himself. Or that Lucifer's pride made him want a throne higher than Gods. He was arrogant of his beauty and wanted more status than God. And finally, that he loved God too much.

So, why did the Fallen Angel Fall? And did he have to?

**S-S-S-S-S**

Humanity was safe for now. Lucifer was locked down in his cage; God had returned. The Angels were no longer fighting, and the Winchesters made it through. Souls intact now, and while not completely unscathed, at least unbroken.

Bobby Singer was in his house, though less a ghostly figure and more a semi solid grumpy old man. He couldn't do everything he once did, but he really didn't miss sleeping that much. And the aches and pains of his life had given way to a new awareness of things he never thought of before. Like how the hell can two people survive so much tension?

Castiel. He rebelled, and discovered free will. While choosing to side with humanity, he fully expected to not survive the end of this. What was the phrase? Heaven doesn't want him and Hell won't take him? Well, to be exact, Heaven tried to act like he didn't have free will, promoted him into a strange job called "executive", and Hell was scared pissless of him.

So, most of his time was spent on Earth. He hunted with the Winchester's, executived in Heaven, and wondered at all the thoughts his new free will thrust into his head.

Thoughts of Dean Winchester.

**S-S-S-S-S**

Sam looked between his brother and Castiel. Three months since all hell declined to break loose, and he was pretty positive he was witnessing a miracle of biblical portions. Dean was sitting next to Castiel on the dingy sofa in this old motel room playing a stupid game on Dean's phone. When Sam says "next to", he should clarify. The only way they could have been closer would be if Castiel was actually sitting in Dean's lap. That whole "personal space!" thing Dean was always yelling at Cas appeared to be a thing of the past. He either gave up or decided to deal with it.

And Castiel. He watched movies Dean mentioned like he was studying for a damned test. Learning the quotes, asking Sam questions – all so he could talk to Dean without sounding like a social shut in. Dean's words, not Sam's.

While he would usually enjoy teasing and torturing Dean about his cuddle time with Cas, Bobby had been warned Sam to leave it alone.

_"Boy, you leave them alone," Bobby had grunted at him. "Boy deserves a little peace and happiness."_

_"But Bobby, seriously? He's acting like a school girl. He blushed this morning!" Sam had defended himself._

_Bobby's wavering form had appeared in front of his face so fast; Sam hadn't seen him move._

_"No. Don't act like your usual idgit self this time. Life is short, and you should be less worried about your thick headed brother loving a clueless dunce and more concerned about yourself while you sit around with your thumb up your ass!"_

The spirit disappeared for a while, having clearly used up his stored energy.

So, while Sam and Bobby knew Dean and Cas were clearly in love, the happy couple were utterly unaware. It was entertaining at some level, but annoying how they danced around each other. Sam didn't think Dean was gay in general, only gay for Castiel. Castielhomosexual? Castielsexual. No wait, Casexual! Sam crowed in his head. This was just getting better and better.

Did that make Castiel Deansexual? Desexual? That didn't sound right.

Sam shook his head. What wasn't right was a grown man making up names for his brothers sexual preferences while having a seriously bad dry spell.

Damn, Bobby was right. He needed to get his thumb out of his ass.

**S-S-S-S-S**

Be gentle – it's been awhile. Chapters get longer soon :) Reviews welcome!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

AN - no offense to the wincest shippers!

**S-S-S-S-S**

Dean stared up at the ceiling in the master bedroom at Bobby's old place. Bobby was still around, like all the time, but since he never had to sleep Dean claimed the room. Claimed? He had smacked Samantha down the hall in a rush to be first. Sam had screamed that he needed a longer bed. True, but Dean got there first.

When Sam followed him in and started to pull him off the bed…

Dean snorted. Oh good times. Only his brother could act like such a girly prude.

_"DEAN!" Sam had shrieked when Dean started unbuttoning his fly._

_"What? I'm in my room, and you didn't knock. Go away Sam, unless you want to watch?" It was a safe bet Sam wouldn't call him on this. The few times Sam had walked in on Dean's private moments had scarred the poor flower._

_"Damn it Dean, get out of the – GET YOUR HAND OUT OF YOUR PANTS!" Sam was beet red. Ha! This was too easy. _

_"Oh yeah baby," Dean let out the raunchiest porn sound track moan he could manage. That was all it took. Sam slammed the door and stomped down the hall. Stomped like a 13 year old girl being told she can't wear the dress she wants._

_Dean had pulled his hand out of his pants and snickered. He had only pulled this trick twice before and so far he had never even had to do more than put his hand between his jeans and boxers for Sam to walk away. Never had to? No, more like couldn't with Sam standing there. Yeah, because it's hot to jack off while your brother is in the room? Not. But it was an awesome way to win an argument._

Twisting his neck to help ease the tension, Dean frowned. Torturing his brother aside, there was a complication that was on his mind constantly. Now that the whole world wasn't in danger of falling into a raging Hell fire, being overrun by dick angels, or simply ending in a big bang, Dean had time to simply think. Yes, Dean could think. He might not be up to Sam or Kevin's level of thinking, but he wasn't unaware or simple. What did he think about?

Castiel.

Castiel started as a pain in the ass with his deep flat voice, annoying head tilt, and refusal to understand anything. Everything that annoyed Dean about that angel… Well, that was in the past. Castiel raised him, held his soul, and brought him back.

Profound bond. God, that was a bitch. In the beginning, Dean had wanted to ask what the hell that even meant, but he knew. He could feel Cas when he came close. They never spoke about exactly what Cas had done to save him, but Dean could feel it. He had Cas in him. Surrounding him, holding him, keeping him. Damn chick flick crap.

Which lead back to Dean's complication. Dean was happy. Some complication, huh? But this wasn't happy like a good wax job on Baby, or a huge juicy cheeseburger with crisp bacon or even a good fuck in crappy motel. This was happy to see Cas, thrilled when the beat of wings announced his arrival, and maybe he could even admit to a skipped heartbeat when Cas said his name while standing so close behind him to get his attention.

That sounded so girly, but he couldn't ignore this any longer. It wasn't a sexual thing - his dick never twitched around Cas like it did around the hotties at whatever random bar he trolled in. But he knew he felt differently about the angel now.

He would kill for Cas, but he had killed for complete strangers. So that wasn't exactly special.

He would die for Cas, but since he seemed to die every few years anyway, that didn't exactly scream out as earth shattering.

He would give his soul for Cas – see above.

Dean stretched his arms above his head with a deep sigh. So what was it? What had his head squirming?

Fucking Sam and his big stupid mouth.

**S-S-S-S-S**

_Cas appeared behind him with a soft winged sound. _

_"Hey man!" Dean said turning to face Cas._

_"Dean." There was that heart skip as per usual, and he felt a smile pull at his lips._

_Their eyed locked, and Dean felt himself lean into the heat coming from his angel. It was becoming more common. The heat given off from Cas made him feel whole. It was most likely something weird about that whole raising him thing, but since that was just too gushy to talk about it was never brought up._

_"Get a room," Sam interrupted. "Fucking an Angel of the Lord with your eyes is going to send you back to Hell Dean – unless you put a ring on it." Jerk had snorted loudly, ruining the moment, and Cas had pulled back, taking his warmth with him._

_"We aren't – You. Shut the hell up bitch!" Smooth reply, Dean thought to himself._

_"Yeah, that's right, man. It's not just a river in Egypt."_

_"What river in Egypt? I do not understand this reference," Cas looked at Dean again, "Is this another movie I should watch?"_

_"Movie Date Night!" Sam managed to get out between his belly laughs._

_"Yes, that sounds nice," Cas said while standing right behind Dean. He could feel that warmth again. _

_"Yeah, whatever," Dean turned his back on his brother. Douchbag. Besides, sitting next to his personal heater for a couple of hours sounded nice. _

**S-S-S-S-S**

It had been nice. And that's why an hour after the movie ended Dean was up here with his thoughts all twisted. Damn it!

The last time Dean had felt like this was when he fell in love with Carri in high school. She had been his first kiss. His first blow job too. Good times. Damn, THAT made his dick twitch. Very good times.

So he loved Cas? Yeah, that sort of fit. But he wasn't feeling the tingles downstairs. So, loved him like a brother? That didn't fit exactly. Could you love somebody without wanting to throw them against the nearest hard surface and make the beast with two backs?

Wait, could he even throw Cas anywhere?

That was an interesting thought.

Dean and Cas were about the same height. While Dean was more muscled, Cas was strong. Really freaky angel strong. So maybe it wouldn't be Cas getting thrown against the wall but Dean.

Dean would be thrown against the wall with Cas following, taking his wrists and holding them just at shoulder level. Unmoving, solid. And when Dean tried to twist out, Cas would use his hips to pin Dean firmly to the wall. A breath against his cheek, blue eyes closing while his head tips back exposing a pale throat.

Of course Dean would have to lean in and nip at that neck. No way was he going to be passive. Cas would moan low in his throat at the first touch of lips against his virgin skin. Never been touched, new to everything and completely at Dean's not so tender mercy.

A shudder would run through the angel's body and those eyes would snap open. Lips would crash together, tongues would battle, and hips would grind together. God the pressure and friction would be so amazing.

Fighting against Cas's restraints, Dean would murmur a low plea for freedom. The angel would let go, moving his hands to thread through Dean's hair. Moving his head to a better position and pulling hair just enough to cause heat jump along skin while teeth nibble and lips sooth. Dean loved having his hair pulled like that.

The taste of Cas would drive Dean into a frenzy. Reaching down and grabbing Cas's tight ass, they would grind against each other. Hardness against a matching hardness. How big would…

Dean's eyes snapped open when his release came, coating his stomach. Hips slowly sinking back down into the mattress, he hadn't even realized he had started jacking off.

"God, Cas…," Well, that answered that. There were plenty of tingles.

Holy Shit.

**S-S-S-S-S**

Thoughts? Reviews make writers happy ;)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

Dean burned his toast the next morning. And spilled his coffee. On Sam's paper no less. Mornings suck.

"What the hell man?" Sam asked.

"Leave him alone," Bobby grunted from the table. He had a book laid out in front of him. Flipping pages had taken awhile to master, but since then Bobby was basically the same. Grumpy, short tempered, and smart mouthed.

"Dude," Sam began again.

"Shut up or get out. I ain't got the patience for your bitching this morning," Bobby snapped, not even bothering to look up at the slack jawed expression on Sam's face.

Snapping his mouth closed, Sam pursed his lips. Bitch face 42 – "You're playing favorites and I can't believe I lost" face.

"Fine, I'll see you later. Unless Dean manages to burn the house down."

"OUT" bellowed the transparent old man.

Dean smirked into his fresh mug of coffee. He loved to win over Sam. Didn't matter what it was, that whole sibling rivalry was alive and strong. Of course, he'd beat the crap out of anybody who treated Sam the same way, but that's what family was for. To protect you, keep you grounded, and annoy the shit out of you to keep you humble.

"I got something to say and I'm not going to say it again so listen close," Bobby said still not looking up. He took a deep breath. Dean idly wondered if it was out of habit or for effect – the dead didn't need to breathe after all.

"Okay…" he replied sitting across from Bobby. "What's on your mind?"

"I'm not spying mind you –"

Crap. Damn it. Double Crap. Bobby knew about last night.

"Whoa man, why would you – ," Dean started, the anger and embarrassment teaming up together in his cheeks.

"Shut it, idget. I wasn't spying. My whole… whatever the hell this body is called just sort of spreads all over the house if I'm not solid like this," Bobby said as Dean looked through the old man. This was solid? Okay, so maybe for a ghost it was.

"I wasn't paying attention or nothing, but I heard – yeah. Just… Crap." Bobby hated "feelings" as much as Dean.

"If you're happy grab it and never let go. That's all."

"I'm not – WE aren't…" Dean stammered. Fuck. He wasn't gay and that was just a one off. And why would Bobby do this to him. It was almost worse than Sam's stupid puppy dog eyes and begging to talk stuff out.

"Damn it boy! Just look real close and be sure you aren't before you walk away, ok?" And with that Bobby disappeared.

**S-S-S-S-S**

There were two things Castiel knew were unchangeable in the world.

One, God was his Father and created all the earth. That was easy. It is always good to start with a firm fact.

Two, Castiel had fused a small portion of his Grace with Dean's soul. Another fact. It rests there in Dean and will never leave. He didn't want it to leave, and it would always tie the two together. He could tell from afar if Dean was angry or happy. Lately it was mostly happy, which was nice.

Wait, one more. There were three things Castiel knew. Third was this movie was awful. Why Dean thought poor acting, no script, cheap sets and no editing made a movie a classic was a mystery. But Castiel was certain this was an awful movie. Awful movies were not classics.

Four actually. The fourth thing Castiel knew was that he wanted to be here watching this awful movie with Dean. Well, maybe not THIS movie, but he wanted to be with Dean Winchester. He would watch awful movies if he had to.

Hold on, Five. There were five things Castiel, Angel of the Lord, Warrior of Heaven knew. He knew he loved Dean Winchester. This was without question or qualm a truth that resonated through Heaven. Literally. Team Free Will appeared to have affected the angels. They had chosen to gossip now, and they gossiped about Castiel and Dean.

No, Six. Yes, there were six things Castiel knew to be good and true and without fault or fail. He also knew that kissing Dean would be second to nothing in his experience. It would transcend every experience and become the single most exquisite moment in his existence. He knew this without a shadow of a doubt. It would certainly be more exciting than the quite intense kiss Meg had given him.

Okay, well maybe that means he knew seven things. Dean Winchester would never kiss him first. After watching a number of "romcoms" Sam suggested, Castiel was fairly certain Dean would allow a kiss, but Dean's character wouldn't allow him to start it. When Castiel stood close, Dean's eyes dilated, his breathing would increase and become shallower. His heart rate started to speed up after a slight skip, and his mouth usually turned up into a "sappy" smile. Sam told him it was sappy, and then started singing a song about kissing in a tree. Dean punched him.

Wow. Eight things Castiel knew. When Dean Winchester lashed out like that at Sam, it was because Sam had generally said something true and embarrassing. Which meant Dean may, in fact, have interest in kissing Castiel in a tree. This was very important and consumed Castiel's thoughts for a full day until he decided that if Dean wanted to kiss in a tree as opposed to anywhere else, they would need a tree house. Because Castiel had studied the romcoms and knew what happened after k-i-s-s-i-n-g in order to get a baby in the baby carriage.

So, nine things. Castiel was going to kiss Dean Winchester. He was going to stand in front of Dean and kiss him. He was. Just not tonight. They were watching this great movie. And Sam was upstairs. Plus, it was getting late.

The tenth and final thing Castiel, Warrior of Heaven, Angel of Thursday, and Executive of God knew was that lists sucked. He would not be making any in the future.

**S-S-S-S-S**

**AN – Okay, having Cas taking the words in a song seriously was inspired by a cute little fic by zeppx called Cas' Milkshake. It's in my list of favorites. LOLs were involved, as were snorting and singing in my head.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**S-S-S-S-S**

Dean blinked.

"You need me to go where?" Dean tried very hard to control his expression. Cas was NOT asking this.

"I need to speak with you privately. I thought your room offered the least chance of interruption while also providing the privacy I asked for. Is there a problem?"

Dean's breathing evened out, and his heart stopped trying to escape through his chest. Right. Logical reason to want to be alone with Dean in a bedroom. With a bed. That Dean had rubbed one out in last night. Thinking about Cas. Crap, his heart was trying to escape again.

"Yeah, sure. No problem. Give me a minute to clean up and I'll meet you there." Dean wiped his hands on the rag sitting on the bench. Oil and grease coated his fingers. Stupid generator had crapped out during the last storm, and now that Bobby wasn't able to actually lay hands on a wrench the job had fallen to Dean.

Castiel walked away, and Dean just stared. Damn daydream. This was not the plot to a cheesy porno. They talked all the time. Granted, it generally wasn't in private. But people sometimes had personal things they didn't want to share. Maybe Cas needed to vent. That Executive stuff sounded awful. Yeah – something like that. Or maybe Cas wanted help with a little problem in his pants. A problem like not knowing what to do with this just awful erection that won't go away. You know how to help, right Dean?

Put it away Winchester, this isn't a porno and you aren't the pizza man, Dean reminded himself as he headed in and washed his hands.

Clear your mind, he told himself. Which made him think of that stupid spoon bending kid in the Matrix. That reminded him, Cas still needed to see those movies. And that led to thinking about sitting in the dark next to the angel. Alone.

Shut it dude. Not the time, not the place, Dean told himself while rubbing his forehead. Later. He could play that out later. If he remembered and if he had time.

Opening the door to his bedroom he groaned mentally. Yes, he would not only remember, but he would so be making the time. Cas sat on the edge of his bed, hands together in his lap, looking up at Dean with those clear blue eyes. He would need to make a lot of time.

"Take your coat off and stay a while," Dean joked. Sort of joked anyway.

"I can stay while wearing my coat," Cas replied. His vision clouded for a moment before he nodded and stood up.

"But I understand you are telling me to be comfortable. Since I am comfortable, that means you may not be. I will take it off to make myself more comfortable for you."

Fuck Cas – just fuck. Take it off. Make yourself more comfortable for me.

"Yeah," was all Dean got out. Cas had slipped the trench off and carefully hung it on a hanger in Dean's closet. How was Dean supposed to pay attention to Cas when the angel was then shed the sports jacket as well? It was like a damn strip club.

So, where was his lap dance then?

"Dean, I have decided something very important," Cas started.

"And…" The determined look on his face made Dean sit up and pay closer attention. Well, he was already 'sitting up'. Now he was paying attention.

"I have watched many movies Sam suggested. The Notebook, Jerry Maguire, Dirty Dancing, Bridget Jones Diary, When Harry met Sally, and The Princess Bride. They were very informative," Cas said looking Dean straight in the eye.

"Sounds like a list of Sam's Top Ten I'm a Girl Movies," Dean rolled his eyes.

"No, there were 11. The others were Singles, Pretty Woman, Titanic, Legally Blonde, and Sex in the City. He did not call them his girl movies."

Of course not, Dean thought. Lord in Heaven above his brother was a woman trapped in a man's body with a child's brain. Or something like that anyway.

"I'm not sure –" Dean started.

"I'm going to kiss you," the angel said. Cas stood up, steeling his back as if ready for a fight.

"—that's exactly- Wait, what? WHY? Where the fuck did that come from?" Dean was stunned. He took a deep breath. Then another.

"I… I have been thinking about kissing you and decided it was best to tell you before "springing it" on you." Cas used those annoying air quotes. "I suppose I should have asked first. Dean, may I kiss you now?"

"What's – Cas. Hold on. This isn't how it's done," Dean mumbled while rubbing his temples. "You don't inform somebody. There are steps you take."

"First –" Dean started and stopped in the same breath. Cas had stepped forward with a nod and a look on his face. Dean had no words for that look.

**S-S-S-S-S**

Cas stood while Dean stumbled over his words. Why did humans use words as shields against what they wanted? There had been no revulsion, no denial, and most importantly – no rejection.

Perhaps the approach was wrong. He stood up straighter and took a deep breath. While it was impossible to actually change his vessel, it was possible to push a certain intangible presence outside his body. He allowed his Grace to fill out around his body.

An old familiar calm descended on his mind. Yes, if this silly human tradition of talking about a kiss was wrong, then he would fall back to what he knew. And he knew Dean wanted him. The small amount of Grace in Dean had announced the flare of desire as loudly as a cannon blast.

"I am still not use to your customs. You don't want to be asked or told," Cas was right in front of Dean now. The hunter was almost holding his breath waiting for Cas to finish.

Leaning in until his mouth was an inch from Dean's, Cas murmured, "Don't mistake inexperience for innocence. You forget sometimes, I am a soldier, a warrior. I am fully capable of taking what I want. Do you have issue with me kissing you Dean?"

The angel only had to wait a heartbeat before the hunter closed his eyes and shook his head once. No problems.

And with that, Cas kissed Dean. The press of lips was followed by a firm hand cupping the back of Dean's neck and pulling him in closer while snaking the other around his waist. A noise from the hunter urged Cas to lick Dean's lower lip, asking for entrance.

Dean opened his mouth, and Cas groaned. His whole body leaned into Dean's, one hand clutching at the shirt hem and pulling up. While there tongues danced, Cas worked his fingers through Dean's hair.

"Ah, G- Cas!" the hunter managed to get out when he came up for air. The angel wasted no time; moving down to Dean's neck and bit. Using his tongue to sooth the abused skin while Dean finally put his arms around the angel's body, Cas scraped his teeth over the taut tendon.

"Again," Dean panted, and Cas complied. The teeth soon gave way to suckling. Cas knew he was marking what was his. Or at least what he wanted to be his.

Pulling Dean's hip to his own, Cas felt Dean's pleasure with the kiss. Moving a little to the side, Cas rubbed his hardness against Dean's. The small involuntary jerk of the hunters hip was quickly followed a gasping moan.

Cas pulled his whole body back a little, looking Dean in the eye. The glazed eyes, flushed cheeks, and completely shell shocked expression pleased the angel very much.

"Thank you for the kiss. I enjoyed that," Cas said softly. "We will have to do that again soon."

And with that he smiled, turned around, and left.

Dean didn't move for a full minute after Cas softly closed his door.

What. The. Fuck.

Bringing his hand up to his neck, Dean turned and looked in the mirror. Yep, right there bright as a strawberry sat a hicky. And the throbbing in his dick was going to have to be dealt with before dinner.

It was strange to be so worked up over a guy. That just – it never happened before. And thinking through all the men Dean had ever met or seen, he didn't think it was likely to ever happen again. It was just… It was Cas. And that was that. Grab happiness Bobby had said. Why not? It was about time he took something for himself without worrying about the rest of the fucking world for once.

He fell back on his bed and unsnapped his jeans. It felt like he had been ambushed by a real fantasy. Little naïve Castiel turned into a fucking badass hard core player. And damn, it was a fantasy Dean didn't even know he had! Getting dominated by an angel. Not a fluffy feathered dick playing a harp and singing like a young boy, but full on battle ready, sword wielding mercenary for God.

Dean palmed himself and started thinking about the next kiss. When would Cas do it? Wait, fuck that. When would Dean do it? He could totally kiss Cas first next time.

**S-S-S-S-S**

Enjoying it? I would really love some feedback. Goofy, Good, Great, Gross, Generally God-awful?


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_Ira - _ Latin for wrath. _"Love of justice perverted to revenge and spite" – Dante_

**S-S-S-S-S**

"Harpies?" Sam asked. This was the last thing he wanted to deal with. Several texts he had read detailed them. Not pleasant. Though, that described the majority of their jobs actually.

"Yeah, a nest of them living about ten minutes north. Seriously, what dumb ass monster moves in close to a hunter?" Bobby rolled his eyes.

"Harpies, as in…" Dean trailed off.

"As in women with certain vulture like traits, a foul vocabulary, and unclean genitals," Cas finished. His eyes never left Dean's face. The look of utter rapture was nauseating. "They also smell bad. I would assume because of the genitals, but I have no first-hand experience." Really dude? You swoon over your… boyfriend?... while talking about nasty girl bits? Ugh. Sam thought the two of them should just get a room, but since that room would be next to his, maybe not.

"No experience with harpies or female genitals?" Sam blurted with a smirk. Dean's hickey had not gone unnoticed. Bobby's warning to back off was fine, but seriously – any physical marks were fair game.

"Shut up," Dean glared at his brother while rubbing his bruised neck. The harsh glare turned into a softer half smile.

"Jerk," Sam grinned before muttering under his breath looking at the angel, "him off."

Only Cas heard him, but instead of getting all defensive like Dean, he just stared at Sam with a thoughtful expression. A very thoughtful expression.

"What?" asked Dean.

"Sam suggested I je-,"

"ANYWAY!" Sam interrupted forestalling a complete melt down on Dean's part. Or maybe on Sam's part if Dean took Cas up on the offer and Sam overheard.

"Shut up the both of you and get geared up. Appears they might be killed with a silver knife, but the lore ain't that clear," Bobby looked around before adding, "Just be careful. They've gone through two sets of campers in the past month. Hungry and nasty – left a blood soaked mess of the place."

Sounds great, the youngest Winchester thought. Bloody camp sites, dirty vaginas, and huge hickies are exactly what he had been hoping to talk about over lunch. Between that and Dean going all Casexual at the table, Sam found he wasn't hungry anymore and pushed his plate away.

"Shotgun," he called to the two men walking out the door.

In the end, Sam sat in the back of the Impala while Castiel rode shotgun. It was an interesting experience for sure. Not only was it extremely uncomfortable legroom wise, he had an unrivaled seat to watch the show up front.

First, Dean would rub at his neck. Then Cas would glance over and grin. Dean would notice and get that dumb ass grin on his face. Cas would puff up. It happened three times before Dean missed the next road.

Sam had no clue what had happened between them – he didn't WANT to know. But whatever happened, it obviously made both guys happy. Very happy. In fact, the term "sickeningly happy" may even apply.

"Dude, you missed the turn," Sam said, rolling his eyes. Of course he missed it. "Stop flirting with Cas and turn around."

"I wasn't flirting," Dean mumbled. Right.

Cas just beamed. Yep, Dean hadn't been flirting at all. Jerk.

**S-S-S-S-S**

The nesting site was just as disgusting as Bobby warned. Entrails hung from the trees. Blood covered the ground, and bones were tossed aside sucked dry of the marrow.

Dean wrinkled his nose. It didn't just smell like death and decay, it smelled like a high school gym in August. Without A/C. And a trash bin from a Chinese restaurant stuck in there. It was everything he could do to not breathe through his nose – it was borderline that his lunch was going to stay down at this point.

A piercing screech ripped through the air as the Harpies attacked from all sides at once. One second they were alone, the next the group of six swarmed from the ground and air. Dean managed to cut one, and he heard Sam shoot another, but it didn't seem to even slow them down.

"A little help Cas?," Dean yelled out, smacking one of them in the face with the butt of his knife. The sicken crunch of a broken nose didn't do anything to slow the thing down, but now it was really pissed off. That damn angel light couldn't come soon enough. Light 'em up Cas, Dean thought.

The Harpy raised it's winged arms and that's all it took. The stench of Harpy armpit sent Dean doubling over, retching like a drunk on a three day bender.

Dean's head swam with the certain knowledge that whatever was about to happen was going to hurt. A lot. Fuck.

**S-S-S-S-S**

Castiel saw the bitch going for Dean's exposed back while his stomach emptied on the ground in front of him. No – after the suffering this Righteous man had been put through on Heaven's behalf. After the choices Castiel had made, the battles won and lost in Heaven. Lives lost. Dean's soul in that pit; his body rotting in the ground. No. Never again would Dean be hurt like that.

Suddenly, it was like the days when the earth was new – when Heaven and Hell clashed for the first time. His vision cleared, time slowed down, and his Grace roared. He was not created to sit on the shoulders of small children or listen to the prayers of the sick and infirm. This. This is what he was created for.

His wings burst from his back and spread out as he wielded the angel sword in one hand. The clothing of man melted away to be replaced by a garb of shining white pure linen; a chain of gold was wrapped across his chest. With each step Castiel took, the ground blazed with a cleansing fire of blue.

A touch to his chest and the chain snaked into his hand. The first Harpy to fall did so as Castiel wielded the chain like a whip and snapped it around the neck of the unholy filth. Claw like hands grabbed at the chain and struggled, but Cas went in for the kill.

**S-S-S-S-S**

The kill. The brothers had never seen anything like it. The chain kept the Harpy in place, but instead of a clean slash through the neck, Castiel cut into the stomach, spilling the guts. His eyes, burning with the same holy blue fire that followed his footsteps, burned the putrid filth as it fell. The scream and plea for mercy… Dean was chilled at the memories it brought back.

But Cas was far from finished. As his first victim burned in a slow moving blue fire at his feet, the angel turned to the two Harpies approaching him from the air.

"PamedgonUr," Enochian boomed in a voice like thunder. Both creatures fell from the sky with their skin blistering in boils. Death was not swift nor painless. That appeared to rather be the point of this battle.

Finally, the last three stood behind the angel as he turned. They had forgotten about the brothers, now completely focused on this Angel of the Lord. Which was just as well, because Dean doubted he could fight while his angel unleashed the wrath of God right in front of him. Or at least the wrath of Castiel.

"Run if you can," he thundered. The first to run was sliced from neck to belly before she made it two steps. The second managed to get airborne before the holy chain flailed into its body and blood rained down.

By the time Castiel turned to find the third, it had run away. Or flown away. Whichever.

There was almost complete silence for a few seconds before the angel looked at the ground and himself. The destruction – it was honestly on a biblical scale. His garments where red and wet; the majestic wings sizzled as foul blood burned from the physical manifestation of Grace. The ground was covered in the way all battlefields are at the end.

Closing his eyes, Castiel hunched his shoulders, pushing his wings out of this plane of existence again. The dirty linen disappeared with the wings, and he was dressed again in his regular unassuming coat and tie.

"Pavandondrux," he chanted, his voice almost back to its normal gravelly pitch. The ground erupted into blue flames for a brief moment, burning all evidence of the violent encounter away.

His eyes returned to normal when he blinked, and the angel sword was sheathed in whatever otherworldly place Castiel kept it. The chain remained in his hand, hanging down and curled at his feet. The gold gleamed clean and bright, as if to say it would never inflict such mortal terror. A quick flip of his wrist and it was gone as well.

"I –" Dean started and stopped. What the hell was he supposed to say?

"What happened?" Sam managed. Ah, good question. Dean knew he kept his little Sammy around for something.

"They were abominations. One was poised to kill Dean."

Dean waited – And? Cas looked around the clearing again, found the path to the car, and started to walk. And nothing it appeared.

"I think I need a drink," Sam said.

"I _know_ I need more than a drink, I need a whole fucking fifth," Dean answered.

"Amen," Sam muttered, following the tan trench coat through the trees.

**S-S-S-S-S**

AN – I researched the hell out of this chapter. From the top – Harpies haven't been in any episodes yet that I remember or found, so I used them. There is no literary reference on how they are killed. They are also described as basically nasty vultures with women's faces and dirty who-ha's. Nice.

As for Castiel – When angels are described in the bible, these are the phrases (followed by chapter and verse if you're interested)

Voice like thunder – Revelation 5:5, 11:15 Destruction through plagues 2 kings 19:35 Held a sword, staff or chain with his hand (Numbers 22:23; Joshua 5:13; Judges 6:21; Revelation 20:10) In white or as white as snow (John 20:12; Matthew 28:3), White apparel (Acts 1:10), Shining garments (Luke 24:4), Clothed in pure bright linen and chests girded with golden bands (Revelation 15:6), Rainbow on its head, clothed with a cloud, face like sun, feet like pillars of fire (Revelation 10:1-3), Countenance of the Angel of God, very awesome, like lightning (Judges 13:6; Matthew 28:3)

Bibledotca if you want more. It was crazy detailed.

And finally the Enochian – The Magickal Reviewdotorg online has a table of the alphabet for Enochian. The first word would (in theory) translate into boil, and the second into burn.

Also, hickies rock. That was great research back in the day.

This is my first ever fight/action scene and I would really like know what you think writing smut is WAY easier than blood and guts – Thanks!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

_Gula_–Latin for Gluttony. Derived from the Latin _gluttire_, meaning to gulp down or swallow.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

The bar wasn't crowded. It was a late weekday night in Bobby's small town – that generally meant the boys had the place almost to themselves. Only three others were in this evening – the town drunk, a hooker, and some guy who looked like he had been kicked out judging by the suitcase at his feet.

"Another round," Sam said.

"Not it," Cas and Sam said as the same time. Dean looked at them both. First, where did Cas learn to play the not it game, and second how the fuck did his fifth turn into one beer and him being the DD?

"I want something new," Sam grinned at him. "Something fruity! An Appletini."

"Calm down Samantha," Dean snorted, "You should nut up and get a real drink."

"Like what Dean? Your beer?"

"Bitch," Dean muttered walking away to buy the round. They had been with Cas before when he got drunk. It had taken a metric ton of liquor, but it has been funny as hell. Which really was the reason Dean wasn't drinking.

Cas drank vodka like it was water, so when he cracked the seal on his second bottle and giggled, Dean had raised an eyebrow. By the third bottle twenty minutes in, Cas was grinning like a loon and asking Dean to dance. That wasn't right. The last drinking session had seen a case of empties for the angel. What the fuck was going on?

Instead of getting Cas another bottle, Dean grabbed a couple of Appletini. Seriously, his brother was going to pay for ordering that bitch drink. That word should have never passed Dean's whiskey loving lips. Of course, Cas had looked interested in Sam's request, and frankly Dean thought slowing down with the alcohol consumption was a good idea. At least until they figured out why his angel had turned into a lush.

" –paper, scissors. Then you do one with your hand." Sam explained as Dean walked back up.

"But paper should never win. Wind would blow paper off the rock, leaving rock as the victor. Paper is held down with rock. And rock smashes scissors. So I win. Rock." Cas explained, his eyes slightly glassy and fist sticking out. "'S logic. I win. That's logic"

"There is no wind, man. That's not the game-"

"But the game is wrong. I win. Rock smashes scissors and holds down paper. In the dirt. Rock makes paper into its' dirty strumpet!" Cas snickered.

Dean facepalmed. Drunk angels and brothers may act stupid, but they were kinda' funny.

"Like Dean is your dirty strumpet?" Sam teased.

"Shut up S-"

"Why would Dean be my strumpet?" Cas asked.

"CAS!" Not so funny. No, drunk brothers and angels just plain sucked.

"Ya' know, your bottom. As in you top him in sex or you dominate him. Your bitch, your twink," Sam said with what Dean considered to be way too much knowledge of gaytown slang.

"Holy shit Sam – Shut the hell up!" Dean yelled, his face turning red.

"Why would you assume I would be 'top'," Cas asked, using the stupid air quotes. Dean should have never let Cas watch Austin Powers. Hehe, that was an awesome movie though.

"Because you're all scary murder angel!" Sam supplied a monster face complete with hand gestures. God, he couldn't believe they were related. But before Dean's hand actually reached his brother's mouth to cover it up, Cas replied to the unasked question that had been sitting in front of them all night.

"What exactly did you think a solider of heaven did? We fight. We level cities in holy vengeance if needed. We remove evil." Cas tilted his head to the side. "I removed the evil threat. Why is that suddenly so scary?" Cas made his own monster face at Sam.

"Dude, you brought a plague on two of them!" Dean answered. "Why didn't you just whip out your shiny mojo?"

"Shiny Mojo!," Sam cackled, forgetting the rest of the question. "Dean wants your shiny mojo Cas – give it to him, give it to him real g- ow!" Sam howled as Dean stepped on his foot. Hard.

"Seriously Cas – Why the flaming sword routine?"

"I don't have a flaming sword. Uriel did, but I don't. My sword is bigger though," he replied thoughtfully. "Much bigger in fact."

"His sword is bigger! MUCH BIGGER!" Sam howled banging his fist on the table. "Oh my God Dean – Is it really bigger?!"

Dean thwapped the back of Sam's head. He was such a 13 year old sometimes.

"Dude, why didn't you take them out the way you usually do. Ya' know – we close our eyes, you get all shining Grace from Heaven, they turn to ash. That whole thing?"

"I'm not sure…" Cas paused for a moment. "Your suggestion makes more sense and would have been faster and much less messy. I will try to remember it. Now, I believe I need a bigger Appletini with my next bottle."

Dean sighed and headed back to the bar. Behind him he could hear Sam giggling and repeating "So much bigger!"

**S-S-S-S-S**

In all of God's creation, there had never been a sunrise as painfully bright as this. When his Father had said 'Let there be Light', it was surely not meant to hurt people. And the birds. Maybe God should have skipped out early on the Fifth day and forgetten these noisy chirping birds. The cacophony they created was ungodly.

What was wrong in his head, Castiel wondered. Something had gone very wrong, and there was blinding pain coming from not only his head, but every other part of his body as well. And it was possible his tongue may have been melted to the top of his mouth. Or glued.

The angel cracked an eyelid open and quickly closed it again. Okay, what had he seen? A front porch and a door. So, he was outside and looking at a house – Bobby's house. He was outside in Bobby's yard.

That would explain why his body ached – Bobby's driveway was gravel. Trying to lift his body off the sharp stones proved too much; Cas lay back down with a groan. His vessel had clearly been hit by a car last night, leaving him broken in Bobby's yard. Cas moved his weight and rolled over. Wait.

Cas appeared to have been hit by a car while next to Dean's car, in Bobby's driveway, and then covered with his coat. That was rather odd.

A door opened and closed, and it sounded like a gunshot in his head. The birds had nothing on the demon that had just made that noise; said demon may also be responsible for the earth being pulled into the sun this morning. Might need to look into that later, Cas noted. If he didn't die first. Again.

"Rise and Shine – it's a beautiful day in the neighborhood," Dean singsonged walking out of the house.

'Oh,' Cas thought as he realized something. Dean left him out here after getting injured by those cars that ran over him. And Dean wasn't a demon, but for this single moment in time he hated Dean Winchester's voice.

"What happened?" Cas asked, voice crackling.

"Remember that movie we watched awhile back? The Hangover? You're living it dude."

"I – I married the harlot from the bar?" Cas groaned. God had been forgiving of the rebelling thing, but marrying the painted jezebel he remembered asking him for a party might be too much for even Him. His carefully laid plans in Heaven would surely fail now. And the sun was swallowing the earth. This was not a good day.

"What? No, Dude. Come on you wicked badass murder machine. Let's dump you in a shower and get food in you."

"I don't need to eat…"Cas trailed off. Oh. "I vomited didn't I? Why did that happen?" His eyes were clearing now while he struggled to get upright. "That was a singularly revolting experience."

"You drank too much. When we drink like that, we puke. It's really the first lesson in drinking." Dean spoke like he was teaching a child that not to touch a hot plate because it would burn. At this moment, Cas thanked his Father that Jimmy was in Heaven and not witness how poorly this body had been treated last night.

"Dean, I have never had a hangover. And I have never still been slightly drunk the next morning. It's very worrisome."

"Flap home and ask somebody about it then," Had Cas been looking he would have noticed the annoyance building up on his hunters face.

"You want me to ask my brothers about a hangover after a night spent worshipping gluttony through a bottle of… a green colored liquid I believe… and then ask them what it means? That sounds like a plan likely to result in too many questions into my illicit reading lists of late," Cas was bitchy when he was hung over. "Also, You're aggravating me. Is that part of a hang over, or are you doing it on purpose?"

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

"Come on LiLo – let's get inside and get you cleaned up – Wait, what reading lists?" Dean was suddenly interested. And yeah, he was pushing all kinds of buttons on purpose. Hey, if he couldn't have a good time getting trashed last night, then the reward was messing with those that did.

"Machiavelli right now. "Discourses" is proving extremely helpful," Nerd reading. That wasn't interesting or illicit.

"Joshua would be very displeased to find me studying Machiavelli." Because Joshua was as nerdy as Cas. "It could cause a heated conflict."

"Sounds like you have some wild times there Cas," Dean opened the door as Cas followed.

"And google has been very helpful in explaining how two men engage in sexual intercourse ." Cas finished off blandly while leaning against the car to try and stand up. "I was not aware there was so much work before the actual act."

Dean's whole body froze. Cas was looking into… Dean hadn't even looked into it.

"I – you, ah," Dean stuttered. Jesus, he was acting idiotic. This was probably something they should talk about, right? I mean – sex. Sex was good and hot and really fun. And fucking scary as hell – holy shit that was going to hurt and how did that work? Did they switch it up? Was it like drawing straws? A scheduled rotation? Did they have to Ro-Sham-Bo? What if he didn't like it? What if Cas hated him for hurting him?

FUCK! Concentrate on the positives here. Cas was hot. Blow jobs. Dean's blue balls wouldn't have to wait until after the angel left to be taken care of. And hey, at least he wasn't going to get Cas pregnant. That seemed like an awesome positive he could latch on to right now.

"I am also reading a book on habits to become highly effective. I have been using them on Joshua – he allowed me to 'work from home' if I promised to stop reading the book aloud." Castiel moved his tongue over his teeth lost in deep thought for a moment.

The funk that would have stayed with Dean all day was already lifting for Cas. Stupid angel mojo. No more fucking around. Well, not actual fucking around, but ya' know. Messing with him. Not _messing_ with him, but poking at – screw it.

"So, that sounds like some pretty intense reading…" Dean trailed off. Cas was looking in a hall mirror with his lips raised, teeth bared.

"I think my teeth are covered in fuzz. It feels rather off-putting," he continued. "I believe that while I would normally 'mojo' myself clean, but I think right now I would very much enjoy a shower."

"Yeah, sure man – I'll set you up," Dean offered lamely. He followed Cas into the house wondering how he had lost the upper hand to a possibility slightly buzzed, somewhat still hung over virgin angel.

Thank God Sam hadn't been out here for this conversation.

S-S-S-S-S-S

Niccolo Machiavelli – founder of modern political science. His writings are insanely diabolical in their methodical logic on how to take over the whole freaking world if you want to.

Also – Joshua appears to dislike "The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_avaritia_ – Latin for Greed

"Greed is for lack of a better word, is good. Greed is right, greed works. Greed clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit. Greed, in all of its forms; greed for life, for money, for love, knowledge has marked the upward surge of mankind." – _Gordon Gekko, Wall Street_ 1987

S-S-S-S-S-S

Heaven was confusing now. Things were the same, and yet completely different. Father was home, angels were peacefully co-existing for now, and fighting the forces of Hell appeared to be on hold for the foreseeable future.

So why was Castiel so uncomfortable? It had taken him by surprise that Sam had been able to easily explain it to him.

"So, it's physically the same, but not the same?" Sam had asked him.

"There is no physicality in Heaven, but you have the basic root of my discomfort, yes."

"It's like the Ship of Theseus –"

"I don't know that ship."

"No, it is a thought experiment from… ah.. maybe Plutarch? Anyway, it goes like this – A ship remains seaworthy for hundreds of years. During that time, it is repaired time and again as things rot or break. After a certain time, every board has been replaced at some point. Is it the same ship?"

"That is… I see. It will be both completely new and completely original at the same time making it both and neither," Castiel frowned. "How annoying."

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

A thought experiment can be enlightening, but frustrating.

Castiel sat in his new 'office' in Heaven frowning. On a realistic level, he knew that Heaven wouldn't be the same once God returned. But when he thought about it, he had envisioned direction. Purpose. Something to guide the angels after being so long adrift. In his vision, there had been trumpets, and joyous singing. Angelic voices all raised in praise to their returned Father.

Only…

Nobody was sure where God had been during his absence. He had learned a strange new variation of language. Instead of a welcoming chorus, he had called a meeting. Now, the angels were told it was mission critical to take a holistic view to the fulfillment issues or there may need to be a restructuring that might include right sizing. At the silence that followed, God had finished up with 'This value-added approach will be seamless if we leverage our client-centric outlook. Now, be sure to use best practices while you think outside the box! Let's go people – make it happen!"

Each angel had been granted a 'face to face' to discuss their 'action items' with a 'team leader'. It wasn't the first time Castiel thought that maybe the Apocalypse may have actually happened. This certainly was a special kind of torture.

Joshua sat down across from Castiel with a smile.

"I know you have questions. So, before we get started I need to explain a few things. When it was clear humanity had won, there was… confusion. You had sided against us. The plans had fallen apart." Joshua paused and looked away. "You were not the favored son."

"I am aware," Castiel acknowledged. It was true. He was not the favorite son, but considering the results he got… Well, he should have been the favorite.

"But favored or not, you had played an important role. It could not be ignored, though many thought it should." A baleful look was cast at him. Many? It would be very interesting to know which of his brothers did not support humanity coming out on top for once.

"This has left us with an… imbalance. You know we have been struggling with conflicting ideals, challenges to our established order and such. Your actions, though presumably pure in intention, have caused ripples."

"Ripples?" Castiel asked hollowly. This wasn't going to end well. Was he about to be 'right-sized'? Would his access to Earth, to Dean, be cut off?

"God looked around Heaven. He was displeased at how fractured and without focus his angels had become. The blame did not rest with us alone, or even with you alone. Though you showed the Host that free will was possible in Heaven and your example of rebellion was not properly dealt with –"

"Excuse me brother," Castiel interrupted for the first time. "Could you explain how our Father, God in Heaven, Creator of Earth, Heaven, and Hell failed to properly deal with me? After all, the decision to allow me to stay in His heavenly light was made by Him in His ineffable wisdom, was it not?"

"Of course, I misspoke. You sowed doubt in the Host when you brought free will into play, Castiel. You know that. The resulting impact – I am aware your time is mostly devoted to earthly business, but some in Heaven have noticed a fundamental shift. Caused by you." True enough, but…

"You assume my actions were, in fact, not part of His plan," Castiel leaned back in the chair. Jumped up Joshua was fuming. The fastest way to stop certain angels from getting too full of themselves was to pull the "Grand Design, Ineffable wisdom" card. How do you argue with that?

"He decided to create a new structure for Heaven," Joshua ignored Castiel's interruption and continued, "One so we could all work together with common goals. Those goals are as they have always been protect humans from the evil of Lucifer and help guide humanity. But He wanted more for us. And them." Joshua ended with a look of distaste in his mouth. Clearly he was not in favor of humanity getting anything more, however vague it sounded.

"I know you are aware how much of our good work has slid to the side in the wake of the… unfortunate set of events recently. Therefore, I am here to offer you the role of Senior Executive Liaison." He folded his hands together in a serene manner, unaware his face betrayed his displeasure. When did that happen? When did Castiel become capable of reading faces?

"I don't understand – I thought I was a solider of the Lord and the angel of Thursday. Are these things being… taken away?" Castiel felt a jab of panic and anger. "Have I displeased our Father? My actions reflected only what I believe He would want for his most favored creations," A definite tick around Joshua's nose at that last comment. Interesting that an angel had such low regard for what should have been his primary concern.

"Calm yourself Castiel. As shocking as it is, Father is pleased with you. You will still lead your garrison and answer Thursdays children. You will have added responsibilities to compliment your core competency. Also, we ask for a weekly briefing of what creature activity you become aware of."

"So, you want me to continue to hunt with the Winchesters?" Core competency? Okay, Castiel was pretty sure they were making stuff up now.

"Of course. Nothing has changed here Castiel. We are still Angels of the Lord resting in Heaven to do our Father's will."

"Yes, in order to serve as protectors, correct? To shepherd and guide the humans?" Twitch. This reading faces was really easy.

"Yes," was the flat answer. There had been a time in the past when the flame of virtuous love for humanity would have shone brightly in his brothers eyes.

"Wait, who has taken over the jobs of those we lost?" That caused a slight head tilt with eyes sliding off to the side, no longer making eye contact.

"There is no need to concern yourself with that Castiel, the Host is deliberating on what should be done, and while there are certain reshuffling of responsibilities, the primary role is being reevaluated to reflect a new candidate's qualifications," Joshua looked… smug. Yes, that expression might be smugness. Or confidence?

"Who has been assigned Gabriel's position? We are talking about a new archangel being promoted to stand at Father's side, correct?" Castiel asked point blank.

Joshua ruffled his celestial wings. "It is in flux, but yes. The current plan we have hammered out includes a new archangel. As I said, the top candidate is being vetted."

"Meaning you," Castiel struggled to keep the frown from his face. Poker face, Sam called it.

"I would be honored to serve." Right. Joshua would be honored to have that power. And why would he want that level of power? Why should he be allowed to have it?

Joshua had practically sat in the corner when the 'shit got real' as Dean would say. His concern had not been for his fellow angels, not for the souls on earth, and certainly not for the triumph of good over evil. Joshua had been a no-show.

If anybody deserved the power that came with being an archangel, it was Castiel. 'Little Castiel' – the baby brother to so many. The one who led battles, opposed Heaven and Hell to defend God's most beloved. The only choice for that position should be Castiel.

"That's interesting," Castiel replied non-committedly.

This was not Castiel's Heaven. It was clearly the same place, but it wasn't. In theory, his role had not changed, except to give regular briefings. Of course, in theory Castiel would have never defied God's plan and changed the course of Heaven and Hell.

Interesting how these things all come back to free will. And even more interesting that he seemed to be one of the only chess pieces on the board that understood what wielding that free will could do. It was like being the only Queen on a board with checkers. They weren't even playing the same game.

As Sam had suggested, this was indeed the Ship of Theseus; If Heaven was and wasn't the original at the same time, then that left some interesting options open. Primary among those options was a reset to Heaven's children. Not the structure of the goals or 'core competency', but a complete rebuilding of his brothers.

It was something Castiel had thought about quite a bit. Why did the angels fall into bickering discord? How could even a highly thought of angel like Joshua have turned from the very thing that defined an angel from his creation? Especially without free will, it should have been impossible.

The answer came while Castiel was researching in Bobby Singer's library. That collection of books were a thing of spectacular marvel. A small footnote in a section on holy water led Castiel to a different book detailing the Well of Souls under the Dome of the Rock in modern Jerusalem. While reading about the history of the Foundation Stone at the Temple Mount, Castiel realized why it had gone bad.

Without God, the Host had been cut off from the purity that kept their Grace from tarnishing. And just like a gleaming chain of silver, without contact from God, the Grace had tarnished. That Grace needed to be cleansed and restored to its original radiant brilliance.

Though, to make those changes, he would need more power. The power of an Archangel. And even that might not be enough.

Castiel was soon lost to the planning of – well, not a coup this time, but a 'strategic restructuring'.

S-S-S-S-S-S

It is interesting to note, as the history of Heaven was being written, the angel Castiel never once considered going to his Father with his revelation.

S-S-S-S-S-S

AN: So… Okay here we go for those who are interested –

Ship of Theseus (Theseus' paradox) is from Plutarch's _Life of Theseus_ in the late 1st century (thanks wiki!)

Well of Souls at the Temple Mount – Come on, I'm betting most of you pictured _Raiders of the lost Ark_ in your head! Anyway, it's based on a real place, and a whole story in itself.

The corporate buzzwords – my husband seriously uses some of these at home. Enough said.

And – next chapter is full of smutty goodness.

_Leave a review? It takes a second and brings so much happiness._


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee,

And I'll forgive Thy great big one on me

-Robert Frost "Cluster of Faith 1962

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

Wal-Mart is the great equalizer. Everybody goes, and everybody dreads going. They have just enough of everything to bring you in, but not quite enough to finish your list.

Dean bit the words that almost tripped off his tongue because of the little girl next to him. What he WANTED to yell at the top of his lungs was "Son of a BITCH!" Why? Because this Wal-Mart, unlike every other damn Wal-Mart in the continental US does not carry rock salt. How? In the north, it melts ice. In the south, they use it in ice cream makers. Everybody has a use for rock salt. But not the fine people of PLACE. They must be the most ice cream hating people in the world.

"Got the shells," Sam said walking over and dumping them in the cart.

"No Rock Salt – How can they not have damn-aging rock salt?" Dean asked, eyes cutting over to a fairly uppity and pissed looking mother who decided she needed something on a different aisle. Just anywhere away from this crazy man who was so passionately upset about salt.

"It's right there," Sam pointed and started flipping through his email on the phone.

"I looked Sammy. It's not."

"Dean, its – you know what? Move." And with that Sam bumped Dean out of the way and grabbed a ten pound bag of rock salt from the bottom shelf.

"They changed the color of the bag. Reading, it's your friend. You should try it sometime."

"Shut it bitch," Dean growled.

"Jerk. I would, but then you couldn't find rock salt, ghosts would choke us to death, and then where we be? Again. Really big brother, I read in order to save lives. I guess you could call it my thing," Dean wanted to smack the smartass out of his dork brother.

"You're a girl," Dean muttered and walked off.

More and more the stings Sam sent his way were hitting home. It wasn't about the reading stuff; Dean learned to read from his dad using a 200 year old primer on witch hunting and that was the "beginning" reader. It was about anything that made Dean feel less. Less than smart, or fast, or good looking, or a ladies man, or skillful, or charming, or in control.

Bah – Dean knew exactly what was eating him. Dean didn't know how to deal with the whole "look, Dean is dating a guy" thing. He was a man. He liked cars, beer, big tits, cheeseburgers, and apple pie. He was not just a man, but a stereotypical man.

Until Cas kissed him. And he liked it. Wait, there was a song about kissing a girl and liking it. That was hot. In fact, Dean had spent a very entertaining evening Athens, Georgia helping two hot co-eds explore the meaning of that song. So why did turning it around make him feel weird?

So, that's where Dean's head was lately. Trying to figure out how to combine who he thought he was and the fact that it appeared he had been wrong. But not completely wrong, because he still found women beautiful. His gaze still lingered a moment longer than was polite on perky cleavage. That alone would lead somebody to think that he really was a one way street type guy. Only…

Only when he thought about Cas, his stomach now tightened with desire; Just straight hot lust really. He might sneak a peek at a great set of boobs, but he stared at Cas' neck. And forearms. And his lips. God, Cas' lips were amazing. They never tasted like lipstick or gloss, and it always amazed him how utterly sexed up swollen red lips and flushed cheeks looked against that pale skin. Not that Dean had sexed Cas up.

Making out, necking, above the waist. How slow did you go with an angel? This was beyond even 40 year old virgin territory. Of course, Cas was the one studying gay sex. Dean's brain almost always stalled at that intersection, but it wasn't completely shut down.

He thought about it sometimes at the worse moment. Like back in Montana, when he was supposed to be paying attention to the Skunka. Cas had been walking next to him and bumped his shoulder. Just a small touch, and Dean's head went straight to Cas slamming their bodies together and just fucking him silly.

That had been a super special hunt – the Skunka had just run past him after Sam had flushed it out. Well, not _just _run past. It had actually knocked him down. So when Sammy came running the corner after the beast, he found his big brother sitting on his ass with a nice tent in his pants.

"Don't ask, Don't tell," Sam had said holding his hands up while backing away.

"Fuck off Sammy!" Dean stood up and started to storm off after the stupid wolf pig thing. Damn straight no telling.

"What just happened?" he heard Cas asking.

"Dean's pitched a tent and he doesn't want to talk about it," Sammy was a fucking comedian.

"We're camping?" Cas asked.

Dean stopped and turned around to look at his angel. Was it even possible, Dean wondered, for Cas to seriously not get the reference? Really? After grinding into him last night?

Shit! That didn't help with his 'tent'.

Dean turned around without a word and returned to tracking.

"Have you ever pitched a tent Cas?" Sammy asked with his innocent voice that he seemed to use a lot with the angel.

"Shut it Samanath!" Dean bellowed over his shoulder. What the hell was wrong with Sammy? Did he turn into the biggest perv in the last few weeks?

"I don't believe I have," Cas replied. Sam howled in laugher, and Dean made a mental note to fart into Sam's duffle bag tonight. Freaking diva.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

A group of dumbass teens started a demon summoning spell in an abandoned farm house. It was badly warded, and the moment the demon arrived – well that was going to either messy or painful if they didn't step in. Not that Dean and Cas were there for these idiots.

The hunters had followed this group of juvenile delinquents for a week waiting for tonight. The problem right now was the warding. These morons had copied every warding symbol they could find all over the room badly – except for the angel ward. The girl with a bad dye job had copied that one just perfect!

Cas and Dean had arrived at this dump before the dumb asses. They went over the house making sure everything was as secure as possible before settling down in a closet to wait for their moment. Now the angel was unable to use his mojo. The risks were minimal, but it was annoying none the less.

They wouldn't even be here if stupid fucking Crowley would just answer his damn phone. After trying several attempts to call, scream, pray, and even summon Crowley, they'd given up. It was clear the demon would not be answering any requests from Dean or Sam in the near future. It must have been pretty cold in Hell right now, because Dean never thought he'd actually miss Crowley. The SOB might have been sick little shit, but at least he was occasionally useful.

So Dean was inside this house with his angel. Hiding. In a closet. And shut the hell up, yes he got how funny that was.

Cas was gritting his teeth as that brown headed string bean of a boy butchered the incantation. Again. They were going so – very- slow! A twenty second spell had taken this group of geniuses over thirty minutes so far and nothing. Not even a flicking from the dozens of candles the shit heads had lit in this fire trap.

Well, almost nothing.

They had been in their closet for close to an hour. The air was getting warm, and Cas had gotten bored. It was almost like without his Heavenly radio turned on, he didn't know what to do with himself. Ha! Like taking a cell phone away from a teenager and telling them to sit still.

At first Cas had fidgeted. Nothing overly annoying, just little movements like he was hopped up on epic amounts of sugar. Then the 'when will he get here' questions had started. No, Dean did not know when the kids would finish setting up. No, how the hell would he have known they were going to use an angel ward? Jesus! He didn't know when they would finish the summoning. Yes, He knew they were doing it wrong.

_Honestly_, Dean silently apologized to his dad, _if Sam and I were this bad, thank you for not leaving us on the side of the road somewhere._

It had been a desperate attempt at saving his sanity when he suggested his angel think about something else, anything else. Yes, of course Dean would answer a few questions not related in any way to demons, farm house smells, stupid ass teens, or how long it would take for them to get out of here.

God, he was an idiot.

"What about Domestic Partners?" Cas whispered in his ear from behind him. Dean closed his eyes as a chill ran through his body. Did his angel even realize what that felt like? The hot breath and deep voice combined with the stubble of Cas' jaw scraping the shell of Dean's ear. It was like a main line straight to his groin.

A few days ago, Dean had tried to ask Cas what they 'were' (damn feelings and shit) – the simple "You are a hunter, and I am an angel," had been followed by an afternoon of concerned looks from Cas. As if Dean had a sudden memory problem, and without constant supervision he would forget to how to eat without choking. See, that's why he didn't like chick flick moments – they were stupid!

Well, whatever. Cas wanted to talk about it now. Sort of.

"We aren't the least bit domestic." Dean replied. He rocked on his feet a little to ease the building pressure in his jeans. Well, his angel finally got the 'what are we' question; Timing might be a little off, but he certainly had some interesting suggestions.

"Then how about just 'partners'?" this time his lips moved down the column of Dean's throat.

"What kind of partners though? Business partners, tennis partners, or partners in crime? Because with your perv trench and the armory in the trunk, it sounds sketchy," Dean managed to say between dragging in deep breaths as Cas bit down. Fuck, that made him lose it every time. Cas knew Dean got really turned on when he got marked up.

"Harder," the hunter growled quietly. Stupid kids – Dean liked being noisy.

"What about significant other?" Cas murmured, as he complied with the request. His hand moved around Dean's waist to rest at the button of his jeans. Those smooth fingers traced small circles on Dean's lower belly.

"We are pretty significant, wouldn't you agree?" the angel asked while flipping the button open.

"Too long to get out," Dean gasped, fingers clenching into fists. Fuck, his control was barely there. This was a first; they would usually make out, maybe grind against each other, and then… nothing. They still hadn't gotten beyond first base. Wait, could you get to second base with a guy? What base was grinding?

"Cas, we're supposed to be working," Dean's prick was hurting; the amount of time he spent hard lately was really contributing to a massive case of chronic blue ball. Normally, he would be all about getting nasty in a random place, but this was Cas. Seriously, the first time shouldn't be in a closet, trying to stay quiet, because they were hiding from half a dozen teens trying to channel evil.

"Bromance," Cas suggested, ignoring Dean. Those dexterous fingers pulled the zip down over Dean's hard cock.

"No," Dean panted. "Not a frat boy." God, maybe it should be in a closet. There were worse places to get off. And hey, if Cas wanted Dean's dick in a closet, really it was only polite for Dean to be as accommodating as possible.

Cas pulled on Deans shirt, lifting it up until smooth fingers rested on hot skin that tingled with the sensation. He held his breath. The angel moved his hand up Dean's bare chest pulling him closer.

"Paramour?" the angel asked before sucking on Dean's earlobe. Those nimble fingers had settled on his pecks. As fingers circled his nipples lightly Dean reached back and grabbed Cas' hips, pulling them together. The feel of his angel's hardness caused Dean's to catch.

"I don't even know what that is," Dean whispered trying to keep some level of control here. How the hell was Cas even talking anyway.

"You could be my kept man," the angel suggested and then tweaked Dean's nipples. He managed to swallow his moan, but he couldn't stand it anymore. He reached under his shirt and grabbed Cas' hand. Pulling it lower, towards his groin, Cas seemed to understand and made a rumbling sound in the back of his throat.

Dean tried to turn around. The too few times they managed to get alone time Dean had quickly discovered he enjoyed the feel of Cas' body pressed flat against his, arms fastened tight, rutting like damn animals. It was the closest they had come to anything remotely close to sexy time.

"No turning around," Cas growled, tightening his other arm around Dean's waist. "If you're going to be my kept man, I want to keep you like this." Cas used his leverage to pull them closer together and grind Dean's ass back against his hard prick.

"I could keep you like this Dean, on the edge. Always thinking about the different ways I could touch you," Cas flattened his hand, and Dean prayed he knew what would come next. Sucking in his stomach muscles, Cas took the hint. His hand slipped inside the boxers down the side of Dean until it stopped just next to the aching hardness.

"Keeping you turned on, barely hanging on," A knuckle grazed Dean's cock, and he bucked his hips, pleading silently for Cas to _please for all that is good finish this_! Oh holy mother of god yes! Dean bit the inside of his cheek to keep the noises in his throat quiet.

"Completely at my mercy. My hand gripping you," Cas gave a single downward stroke, pulling the skin over the head of the hunters cock tight. He could feel a drop of moisture leak out.

"Do you want to be kept by me Dean?"

"Oh – Cas, yes," Dean thrust into the welcoming hand.

"Or maybe you would rather be called my lover?" Dean's eye closed as Cas started a steady pace. Slow, but by no means gentle. The angel was a damn fast study. When Dean's hips thrust, he sped up and tightened his grip.

As a fingertip brushed over Dean's slit, the world prematurely exploded. His balls tightened so fast, his orgasm came almost without warning; Dean barely had time to muffle his pleasure. The feeling of hot come coating his lower stomach and dick seemed to surprise the angel.

Before the orgasmic rush even started to fade, the humiliation set it. Damn. Way to impress your maybe future lover, or boyfriend, or paramour whatever the fuck that is. Dean just didn't usually blow his load early, much less _that_ early!

As Cas started to pull his hand out, Dean murmured, "It's usually much better, I swear."

Cas looked at his hand before raising his eyes to the hunter, "I can do better next time, but it is always so messy?"

"Wait, what?" Cas could do better? "No, I meant-"

But he never got an answer because at that moment the teens finally figured their summoning spell out and the guest of honor had arrived. Dean pulled his boxers up and buttoned his jeans. Ugh – drying come in his pants wasn't cool.

Show Time.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

Dean frowned as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Gripping his chin in one hand, he turned his face side to side. Strong cheek bones, freckles, shit green eyes. Nothing that would mark him as an angel's boy-toy bitch. After a life of love 'em and leave 'em… Well, he just never thought he would be the submissive in a relationship.

He wasn't a small guy. Dean pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side, and flexed a little. He looked good. Strong and masculine. He was certainly bigger than Cas.

Being bigger wasn't the issue though. Seriously, how did a virgin older than mankind own him so completely every time they touched? Without fail, even if Dean started kissing Cas, the hunter would end up panting and begging in his mind for release.

Dean raised his arms above his head and ran his fingers through his hair. Okay, Cas was awesome and honestly, getting owned by a badass warrior angel was a huge turn on, but so was the idea of fucking over the hood of his car. In that fantasy, Cas was the one laid out, not him.

It just twisted his head in six different directions. He wasn't a submissive really, or at least not totally. Wait, could you be bi-submissive? Was that even a thing?

Great, so now he was not only hitting for the other team, he didn't know if he was the pitcher or the catcher.

Fucking awesome.

Dean stared at himself in the mirror again.

Wait, if he turned that way and flexed – Hell yeah! He could have totally been an underwear model. Dean pushed his jeans down over his hips, pulling his boxers a little lower as he went. Underwear models wouldn't be arguing with cranky demons making jokes about Dean having a wad of come in his boxers.

Yeah, Fucking Awesome.

S-S-S-S-S-S

Skunka Warakin – a wolf/boar/hyena Cryptis in Montana

**If you leave a review in the box it would seriously make my day.**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

S-S-S-S-S-S

There exists a tablet in a deep secret place. No one has ever laid eyes on it, but it must exist. The words it holds could be in any language, in any script, but it will never change. Among the runes, cuneiform, brail, Greek and Latin letters there exist dozens more alphabets, hundreds of languages, but only one message -

**_Life is not fair._**

And that just sucks.

S-S-S-S-S-S

Dean had always known what to do with a girl. Kissing was pretty easy – lips, tongue, no slobber. Feeling a girl up had also been pretty well self-explanatory. Up shirt, cup boob, unhook, and… Okay, the exact pressure of rubbing a nipple and how to caress a breast had been a little trial and error. Fun trial and error. Fingering had been a little more complicated, but you heard stuff from the older boys. Stuff like how to move your fingers so the girls would go wild.

And sex had been easy enough to get a feel for. After all, they lived in motels with Skinimax. What better way to learn than by watching? There wasn't a whole hell of a lot Dean hadn't felt confident about in the sex department.

Until Cas kissed him.

Now, he wanted – Shit, he didn't know what he wanted. He wanted to crawl into Cas, breath him in, and never stop touching him. His body was on fire when Cas winged his hot ass down here, but as for the actual hot boy on boy action? Yeah, Dean was kind of clueless, and that sucked so bad, ya' know? That's just not how sex had ever been for him.

Last night Sam had suggested the stupidest idea after watching Oprah or whatever touchy feely crap he watched.

_"You should watch some gay porn," Sam said while looking at his laptop._

_Dean choked a little on his beer. It had been a long day, and he had finally started to unwind. The tension had drained away by the second cold one, and he was well on his way to a little relaxed sigh. _

_Fucking Sammy._

_"Don't say another word. This isn't even going to happen Sammy," Dean used his best glare to try and stop his brother's mouth from moving._

_"No, really –"_

_"Seriously – shut up,"_

_"There are plenty of sites on how to have ana –" Sam started again._

_"Are you - You're researching how to have gay sex?! Sam, what the hell. Man?" There was no way they were actually related. Seriously, no way._

_"Did you know that with proper prep and lube-" _

_"Shut your piehole!" There was something seriously wrong with Sam's earring. They might need to get that checked out before Dean killed him._

_"It's actually quite enjoyable." Sam stated with a little smirk._

_"Did your stupid website tell you that?" Dean started mentally cataloging the weapons within easy reach. Lighter, flammable paper, a knife under the cushion, gun in the drawer next to him, a shotgun on the wall, and best of all - his imagination _

_"Ah, no."_

_Dean paused. Wait._

_"Sammy, have you slept with a guy before?" Dean couldn't believe he was asking. He didn't want to know, not really. _

_"No. Never slept with a guy," Sam said. "Would it have mattered if I did?" He challeneged._

_"Hell no, but it would have shocked the crap out of me. So-"_

_"But Jess was pretty wild," he said with a far away smile. "She liked to try stuff all the time. We did crap like that every once in a while." Sam glanced at him. "If it's done right, it feels fucking amazing."_

_Long silence._

_"Why would you tell me that man?" Crap on a cracker – some things you just never needed to know about your family members. _

_"Well, you're scared out of your skull –"_

_"Am not," Dean started pacing around the small living area._

_" – and so horny that if you don't get laid soon, I'm going to have to put you out of your misery."_

_"I'm not scared."_

_"Of course not Dean," Sam had rolled his eyes while giving him bitch face 33 – 'you're not only an idiot, you're as ass as well'._

S-S-S-S-S-S

It had been a week. Seven days of pure torture since Dean stomped back into the house after meeting with Crowley. Dean had been happy when he and Cas got together, that much Sam was sure of. It had been strange to see his brother smiling so much, but it was so much easier to live with a happy Dean.

Of course, Sam thought to himself, it had been too good to last. Good things just don't stick around for the Winchester brothers. Dean was now a grade-A pain in the ass. He snarled at everybody, Cas included. Poor angel was so damn confused. Sam hadn't even been able to offer any advice.

After speaking with the demon, Cas had told the brothers there was business to attend to in Heaven. That in itself was not unusual; Angel – Job – Heaven. But Dean acted like it was end of his relationship.

Seriously, Dean Winchester appeared to have separation anxiety from his angel.

So Sam did the one thing he always felt so weird doing. He prayed to Castiel.

'Dear Castiel, I know you usually only come for Dean, but hopefully you're listening. Um, I would like to talk to you – about Dean? This is stupid. Please come here so I can stop, Amen."

And surprisingly enough, Cas had come. They stood in the salvage yard, well out of sight of the house.

"Hello Sam," the angel said. At least he hadn't popped up behind Sam. That was weird.

"Hey Cas – look, I don't have a lot of time. Did anything happen when you guys were staking out that house waiting for Crowley?" Maybe they had broken up? This would be so much easier if his stupid brother would just talk like a regular person.

"Crowley was able to confirm several things for me. I am not pleased with the 'restructuring of self-directed value enhancements' Joshua has asked for," Cas said, complete with air quotes. Suddenly, Sam understood how Cas must feel to understand the words, but not the meaning.

"I'm not sure that would be it. Did anything else happen? With Dean?"

"Dean and I talked about our relationship while I brought him to completion," Cas replied with a completely straight face.

"Oh. My. God. No, no, no. Brain bleach isn't enough." Sam felt his face heat up. Just no. he couldn't believe Cas would just blurt that out. "I don't want to know that man! You don't say things like that Cas. You just – that's personal. Between you and Dean. ONLY you and Dean, understand?"

"You asked what happened. That is what happened – why did you ask if it wasn't something you wanted to know about?" Cas was starting to get agitated. Sam realized he had about a minute before Cas left.

"Okay, sorry. I won't ask again, and we will never tell Dean, agreed?"

"That sounds reasonable," the angel nodded.

"Did you and Dean get in a fight, disagree about anything, or were any words spoken what might have upset Dean?" Sam asked, phrasing the question as carefully as he could.

"After I assisted Dean to completion he informed me it could have been better. That it would get better. I assume it was my inexperience, but I have been researching a few-"

"No, no – just stop. Personal Cas. I don't even know… Okay," Sam mentally shook it off. Focus. "Dean needs to see you man. He isn't a ray of sunshine to begin with, but lately he is a pain in the ass."

"I will come as soon as I have completed my task in Heaven. Thank you for telling me Sam. And, as you said, Dean does not need to know. Correct?"

"Most definitely Dean doesn't need to know," Sam agreed. It was a very real possibility Dean would actually hurt Sam if he knew about this conversation.

S-S-S-S-S-S

Two days had passed. It occurred Sam that Cas may have not understood how bitchy Dean could be.

"Dude, just pray and get him down here," Sam growled through his gritted teeth. "When have you ever thought twice about calling him if you wanted something? And for the love of God – what the hell is wrong with you!"

"Nothing is wrong with me!" his brother snapped.

"You are so far outside your comfort zone you can't even see you're being an idiot."

Dean scratched at the back of his head and licked his lips.

"I, ah…" Sam held his breath. Dean NEVER talked about his feelings. Never – it just wasn't done. So even this much meant he was seriously messed up over something. _Don't push_, he reminded himself. _Dean's like a baby bird right now – don't scare him off._

"So, something happened with Cas. I thought I could show… that I could do… Fuck this." Dean rubbed both hands over his face. "Damn it. Okay – Cas and I were in the closet. Shut it Sammy, a real closet."

Sam snapped his mouth shut. Oh, this was too good. _Just remember, baby bird_.

"And… well, here's the thing. You know when Jess cock-blocked you for like – 4 months in the beginning?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, sucked," Sam replied. "Wait, is Cas cock-blocking you? Did you fight about… Holy shit Dean! Did you fight with Cas about not putting out? Seriously?"

"No! Fuck – just no. I figured everything would go at whatever speed he set. Virgin and angel and my first boy… umm.., male partner?"

"Shit, I have no idea what to even call this. And what the hell is a paramour? No, I am not pressuring an angel to slut it up. Jesus." It was interesting to note that Dean had just blushed at least four shades of red.

"Ok, sorry. Go on – I swear I'll shut it," Sam closed his mouth and brought out the puppy eyes. It was disturbing how well they still worked on Dean. Seriously, did his brother really believe he was _that_ concerned _that_ often?

"I might have done - something to cause some confusion and maybe… I may have." Dean just stopped talking. Sam let the silence extend. Sometimes you just needed to let Dean work it out.

"I'm really a fan-fucking-tastic lay, Sam!" Dean exploded as he jumped up and started pacing the room.

"Uh, I'm not sure that's really something I need to know man." It was fun to try and see where a conversation was going; You could occasionally follow Dean's logic of how he came to a conclusion. Right now, it was pretty clear Dean was on the crazy train.

"Something happened, and I said something." Super clear Dean. _Keep going_, Sam motioned with his hand. He had a clue what this was about, thanks to Cas. But he couldn't tell Dean he knew what happened, which meant he might have to hear about Dean's 'completion' again. Shit.

"So, Cas thought it meant one thing. And I meant something else. But I'd rather it be what Cas thought. But it isn't." Dean looked at him as if any of that made sense.

"SHIT! I'm not a kid Sam! That's not supposed to happen!" Sam just blinked. Huh?

"It's not fair – When I finally figure shit out, ya' know?" Dean was either having a break through or a breakdown.

"Right, so you can't call him down because…" Sam wasn't even going to try anymore. He pulled his phone out while Dean paced and punched out a quick message.

"Because it's just not fucking fair!"

**Cas – Dean freaking out. Get down here.**

"It's fucking complicated, ok?" Dean yelled throwing his hands in the air as the sound of wings filled the air.

"What's complicated Dean?" Cas asked from behind Dean.

Suddenly Sam wasn't so sure texting Cas had been a great idea. Dean's angry look turned to slightly manic.

"I'm not a bottom, you are not the boss, and you are not allowed to use words I don't know anymore!" Dean spun around and pushed his finger into Cas' unmoving chest. "Understand?"

"I'm just going to leave now," Sam said, but they both ignored him.

"I do not understand. I understood each word on its own, but you are not making sense," Cas sent a pleading look to Sam. At times like this Sam usually tried to translate 'Crazy Train Dean' speak for the angel.

"Sorry, no clue this time," he said as he gently closed the door behind him.

Wow – hopefully that shit storm would settle down by tomorrow. Tonight, he fully intended to pull a Dean and find a hot woman, a warm bed, and a cold beer. Though not in that order.

S-S-S-S-S-S

Dean felt blindsided. Trust Cas to show up in the middle of his freaking confession to Sam. What was complicated? Everything. Everything except he wanted his angel. So, at least one thing wasn't complicated.

"What did you mean, Dean?" he asked again. "You are not on the bottom, I am not sure who your boss is – possibly Bobby though you seem to be more self-employed, and I am not sure which words you don't know. If you could provide me a list of forbidden words, I will refrain from using them."

Of course that would make sense to Cas, Dean thought.

"I'm – That's not what I mean," Dean struggled to make sense of his thoughts.

"But, that is exactly what you asked," Cas replied, his face clearly telling Dean how confusing he found humanity.

"This thing we have," Dean motioned between the two of them, "It's weird."

"How do you mean?"

"I'm not exactly…" Dean trailed off. "What's a paramour?"

"A lover," Cas replied. Dean could see the relief at being able to finally understand something in this conversation.

"Oh. That's not so bad," he nodded, feeling a little less agitated.

"What did you think it meant Dean?"

"I'm not – I really don't want to talk about this right now, ok?" Dean looked towards the door. Out. He really wanted to get out of this too small room. This was just too much touchy-feely talking crap for him in one day. "It's not that important."

Before he could be interrupted, Dean held up his hand to ask for a moment. If this was 'outside his comfort zone', then all he needed to do was bring it back in.

"Cas, would you like to go out tomorrow? To dinner?" Dean could do dates. He was the master of dates.

"I do not need to eat," reminded the angel, "but I would enjoy keeping you company while you consume your evening meal."

"Great, then we can go to a movie after maybe – sound good?" This could work. This was inside his comfort zone.

"If you like," Cas looked a little bewildered. "I do not understand why you are asking about dinner for tomorrow night. You usually eat when you are hungry."

"It's a date Cas. I'm asking you on a date."

"Oh," Dean grinned when a slight flush spread over Cas' cheeks. "So I can be your boyfriend if we are dating now, correct?"

S-S-S-S-S-S

Thanks to Indigomyst00 for offering to beta for me!

Reviews help my muse - =-)


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

_Carita _– Latin for Charity. Charity is held to be the ultimate perfection of the human spirit, because it is said to both glorify and reflect the nature of God.

S-S-S-S-S-S

Dean was going to write a new book.

_How to Date an Angel of The Lord Without Going God Damn Insane_

_By Dean Winchester_

_Introduction by Dean Winchester, survivor of Angel Dating_

_Dear readers – run._

_The End._

Dating was something Dean was very comfortable doing. Maybe not long term or seriously, but casual dates? Hell yeah. He was the best damn date out there. He was entertaining, funny, great at maintaining eye contact, and he even knew how to end a date right. Which really, as far as he was concerned, was the point of the date in the first place.

"Dear Castiel, please get your hot ass back down here before I start damaging things. Amen"

He paced in front of his car parked outside in a secluded area at Bobby's junkyard. The moon wasn't quiet full, but there was enough light to see. And he better see his fucking angel or he was going to bust a few windows in sexual frustration.

"Hello, Dean," Every single time. Like he hadn't even left two minutes ago.

"You can't just pop out of a date like that man," Dean tried to explain. Dating was not as much fun when you had to explain each step.

"I apologize. Was there something else? Is this the movie you spoke about?"

"No Cas – no movie. This is about ending a date the right way."

"But you cannot walk me to my door," Cas looked so proud of himself for remembering that dating tip from some stupid Sam/girl movie or a random Sam/girl magazine.

"Right, but after you get walked to your door-"

"Which you cannot do," Cas interjected.

"You get kissed. Unless you would like me to skip that part as well," Dean smirked as a flash of desire showed on his angel's face.

Cas at once leaned his body against Dean's and pulled their lips together. Damn, Cas was a great kisser – all heat and tongue and even a little teeth sometimes. It was so easy to sink into the feel and taste of his angel. Never afraid to be a little rough, but only rough because he couldn't control these new feelings. His enthusiasm was extremely easy to get lost in.

"Hold on babe," Dean gently pushed Cas away. The look on his face was all sweet desire and confusion as to why the kiss had stopped.

Taking his angel's hand, Dean walked to the back of the Impala, and lifted Cas onto the trunk. Stepping between his legs, the hunter slid his hands up Cas' thighs to his hips. Thumbs massaged in ever tightening lines towards Cas' cock. Dean could feel the fabric tightening.

"This is how we end a date," Dean whispered in a low voice making sure his lips brushed against the dark haired angels' ear.

"Already getting hard aren't you," Dean murmured as he leaned in and pressed an open mouthed kiss on Cas' neck, biting harder than he ever would have with a girl. Cas moaned as his back arched and hands grabbed on to Dean's shoulders.

"This time, I get to touch. Okay?" he asked, fingers tracing the straining length of Cas' cock.

The only response was a muffled grunt and one nod, but it was enough. Untucking Cas' shirt, Dean started unbuttoning the rumpled white fabric from the bottom up.

"Do you have any idea," Dean murmured, as he slipped the tie from under the collar, still hanging loose around his angel's neck, "how often I have wanted to grab this tie and pull you to me? How many times I have had to shove my hands in my pockets?" Dean yanked on the tie, bringing Cas' face closer.

"Any idea how fucking hot it is when you run your hands through your hair? With your clothing slightly wrinkled, your tie hanging loose? Like you just got fucked hard," Dean groaned as his hands moved from the tie down the smooth planes of Cas' compact chest.

"Tell me," was all Cas could get out between his groan and heavy breathing. His eyes were half closed, cheeks flushed. God Dean wanted to dirty him up so fucking bad.

"And this damn trench coat," Dean growled, reaching behind Cas to cupped his ass – pulling him to the very edge of the trunk.

"You've got no fucking clue how bad I want to find out what's under this coat. So many times," Dean pauses to lick Cas' lips, "I've wondered how much that coat would hide if I reached in and touched you."

"Cas – Damn I want to bring you to your fucking knees when you come, screaming my name," Dean rumbled possessively as he skimmed over Cas' hips and around his waist. The button to his pants was easily flicked open and the zipper almost slid down on its own; his prick was straining against the fabric so much. Dean's fingers didn't tremble at all, even though his heart was racing. He wasn't exactly positive about how good he would be at any of this with a guy, but if he didn't get to touch Cas…

"I wanted to work you like this," Dean's breath was coming in shallow pants now. Pushing the fabric aside and pulling Cas' hard cock from his boxers, Dean finally started moving his hand, working it slowly up and down. His grip was firm, but he let his fingers tighten more on the way down.

"I jacked off thinking about you- laying in bed – came all over my stomach," Cas gasped at Dean's words and reached up and grabbing his hair, dragging him into a fiercely wild kiss.

"Thought about laying you out on this car, making you lose control," whispered the hunter, his lips not even leaving his angel's.

"Fuck Cas," Dean moaned, pulling back. "Watch me. Watch me jack you off; tell me what you want."

"I don't know," Cas whimpered. His eyes were huge and a light sheen of sweat glistened on his skin. "Never done this to myself, only you."

"Holy shit Cas," Dean's hand faltered for a moment. "You've never touched yourself? Never…"

They both looked down at the hand slowly pumping Cas' cock, the only sound in the dark night air their panting breaths. It had been forever since Dean had been a virgin in every sense of the word, but he remembered how every touch, every sound went straight through him. That first taste of sexual pleasure.

Dean kept up his slow pace, meant to drag out the building orgasm to almost glacial speeds. Reaching up with his free hand, he cupped Cas' neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Their lips met, already open, and tongues twined together. It was less a kiss and more a meeting of souls, though Dean would die before admitting it.

"You're gunna' fucking love this," Dean whispered before leaning down and trailing kisses on Cas' chest through the open shirt.

"What –" he managed to get out before lips closed around his nipple. The angel's back arched and he wrapped his legs around Dean's hips, trying to pull him closer. The hunter sucked harder, marking the pale expanse, until a deep groan echoed through the junkyard.

"God, you taste good," he murmured against the hot skin, "I could get addicted to the taste of your skin, mouth…" He sucked again, but used his teeth to worry the hard little nub. So fucking responsive – Dean's heart was racing, and his blood was pounding.

As Cas' hips started thrusting faster into Dean's hand, he knew it was about to end. He also knew there was one thing which always turned him on beyond belief; maybe Cas would enjoy it too, Dean thought before straightening up.

"Watch me," Dean said as he looked down at his hand moving ever faster. There was a small bead of pre come at the tip. He swiped at it with his finger and brought it up to his mouth. Cas' huge eyes never left that finger as it moved between the hunter's lips. Bitter, musky – he had tasted himself on other girls' lips before. It wasn't as bad as they made it out to be; it was a strong bitter taste.

"Fuck Cas, you taste good," Dean grunted before crashing his lips down on the angel's again in a bruising kiss. It was only a moment later that Cas stiffened and screamed his release into the night air.

"Dean, yes – I…" came the garbled response from the spent angel. He spent a few moments getting his breathing back under control before saying, "I want to do that again."

"Good night Cas," Dean laughed against his angel's lips. His prick was begging to come out and play, but this was about Cas tonight. It could be taken care of later.

S-S-S-S-S-S

_It would be nice to say Dean and Cas had been taking a nice romantic stroll in the park, but of course they weren't. There was little chance of Dean doing anything romantic on purpose, and Cas was unaware that walking anywhere could be called romantic._

_The warmth of the sunshine beat down on the pair as they strolled across the grass. Their heads were bent, looking at the ground while their bodies leaned in close. Every once in a while they would stop and look up at each other, speak a few words and continue._

_A casual observer could easily be forgiven for assuming the two were just enjoying the warm spring day; lovers basking in the company of each other._

_Of course, if that casual observer could come in closer and listen to the supposed loving words the two exchanged… Well, it might be better for our casual observer to go observe elsewhere._

"More blood," Cas murmured and stopped. He looked up at Dean and waited for him to spot it.

"I see it. Human again?" He looked at Cas and sighed. Dean hated doing canvases like this during the day. They either looked weird and attracted attention, or they looked spooky and attracted attention. Already an older couple had watched them for fifteen minutes before getting that suspicious look. Fine, thought Dean before he gave up and just kissed Cas senseless. The couple rushed away, clearly scandalized.

"No, not human. Goat," Fuck. Of course it was goat. Couldn't be a simple slit throat could it?

"Damned cult worshippers. Okay, keep going." Dean's eyes once again studied the ground.

The next few minutes were spent following the trail of blood almost washed away by the previous night's rain. There were enough monsters and demons in the world. He would never understand why some people wanted to raise more. They continued their romantic little goat blood trail search.

"I can see a few more spots, but they seem to stop here," Cas motioned to the ground near a concealed storm drain entrance. Wonderful, Dean thought. Not creepy as hell at all.

"Okay, I'm going to go get a few things from the car and then…" Dean stopped. He was talking to himself and Cas appeared to be stuck staring into the sky.

Suddenly, Castiel looked around with a frown.

"Cas – hey man, everything okay?" Dean put a worried hand on his angel's shoulder; usually that look meant he was about to fly off to take care of Heavenly business.

"One moment please," Castiel said walking away from the drain and heading directly across the green space to the playground on the far side at a fast pace. Dean followed at a distance, wondering if he should be arming himself yet.

Castiel approached a woman watching two young boys playing on the playground. She looked for all the world like something had stolen her very life. A shell of a woman; she was clearly only holding on for her children. Dean didn't see her as an obvious threat, but you never knew.

The angel sat beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She flinched and turned to brush the hand off but stopped. The two stared at each other for longer than would have been comfortable for Dean. He could barely make out Cas' words when he started to speak.

"He did not want to leave you and the kids, and begs you to accept the job. A new life, a new start, a new love. He wants his sons to be happy, and he wants you to smile again." Castiel gave one of his rare smiles. It was – it was amazing. The world seemed brighter, sounds crisper. Dean knew enough about angels to understand those words had the power of Castiel's Grace behind them.

"It is not a betrayal to your love."

She opened her mouth and then closed it. Dean watched Castiel's shoulders bunch up and roll back. He knew that meant the angel had pulled his wings into this dimension, even if human eyes couldn't see them. Without a word, Castiel leaned into this frail woman; it wasn't hard to picture his wings spread around her, surrounding her pain with his Grace. Her grief was an almost tangible wave as she broke.

"He left. It's not right – I just want…" she couldn't finish. Her head was buried in the angel's shoulder. Dean had watched as his father fell apart after the fire. He remembered the weight he carried at all times. And sometimes, in the quiet of night, Dean would hear his father in the bathroom quietly sobbing as if his soul had been ripped away. A knot formed in Dean's throat; what he wouldn't do to have been able to comfort his father like this. But words and feelings just didn't happen with John Winchester. Or Dean for that matter.

"I know, but this is what he wants. Your time for grief has past, and he needs you to move on. To raise the children you created together. You can honor his memory by honoring his last wish for you and your family."

Castiel leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. It was rare that he touched people, aside from Dean. Before the small spike of jealousy could even take hold, a small flash of angelic light moved from Castiel's lips into the woman's body. Something else had passed between them – something between her and God and this Angel of the Lord.

"Go love your children and start over; your happiness will create more joy than you can ever know."

Castiel stood up and walked over to Dean. His angel – his skin seemed to glisten. It wasn't like a light. More like an iridescent Heavenly essence that ghosted over his skin. It was unlike anything Dean had ever seen before.

"Watch this," Cas said and pressed a single finger to Dean's head as he pointed to the woman on the bench.

She looked dazed, but stood up and walked to her boys. They continued to play, unaware of what had happened. A deep breath in and as she released it, a small bright light that had been hovering near her started to circle her body. She closed her eyes and murmured something, but when she opened them…

Words will never describe exactly what Dean saw, but he thought he saw the light take the vague shape of a man. That man put his arm around the woman's shoulder's kissed her cheek, and then he dissolved into the most beautiful burst of celestial fireworks before spiraling into the sky.

When Dean looked back at the woman, she was smiling at her children. And he was pretty sure by their reaction it had been a long time since the kids had seen her smile.

"Cas? What just happened?" Dean whispered.

"I answered a prayer of a Child of Thursday."

"She was born on a Thursday?"

"No, he was. Her husband. And he prayed for her to heal and start over - to give them all a new family," Castiel paused. "I know I don't answer as many prayers as I once did, but this one was special. Do you see that oldest boy over there?"

Dean nodded. Sandy blond hair, lanky. He was maybe eleven – old enough to be almost too old to enjoy the playground.

"He has a future that will shape God in the eyes of humanity. They will now move, and he will start a new school. At the end of the year, he will ask his mother to come meet his favorite teacher. They will meet, and after a courtship, they will fall in love. Together, they will have a daughter. That older boy will love his sister and protect her. In fact, he saves her life once. She in turn gives birth to three children. The middle child, a boy, will go on to study the brain. A late night in the lab will reveal to him a chemical that is the cause of depression. This allows the development of an actual cure for depression. That cure? Dean, a girl in Germany who would have killed herself and lost her soul is saved; she becomes a prophet of the Lord. Her words reach millions of lost souls. The ripples of God's Love will be felt for hundreds of years, and it starts at this moment."

"Wow," is all Dean can manage. The scale is mind bending.

"The charity of my Child of Thursday allowed that to happen."

"But you did too, didn't you? You listened to him, you looked into their futures. If his prayer had caused her more pain, would you have answered?"

Cas appeared lost in thought for a moment. "No, of course I wouldn't. But it is his charity, not mine."

"No, yours was listening and helping. Like you said, you don't answer many prayers, so you are helping save that whole future as well."

Cas peered at Dean with such an intense look that Dean started fidgeting. It was so weird when Cas stared; Dean use to either yell at him to stop or want to run away. Lately though, it elicited another reaction all together. But since stripping them both naked as jay birds would most likely get them arrested, Dean settled for teasing.

"And it's freaking hot when you get all angel-helping-powerful," Dean winked at him.

"Come on Cas – we need to roll. Sam's waiting, and I hear a cold one calling my name," Dean grinned.

"You do understand beer is not able to actually call your name, correct? If you hear inanimate objects speaking –"

"Joke. It was a joke. Or an expression," Dean rolled his eyes. Would this part ever get any easier?

S-S-S-S-S-S

AN – again thank you to Indigomyst00 fir making sure things stay physically possible ;)

Did you enjoy? Dean got a little control back. I like my boys strong and badass!

Also, it's good karma to review ;)


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

_"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel"_ – Maya Angelou

S-S-S-S-S-S

Castiel tapped his fingers on the desk in his Heavenly office. He should be in the garrison with his brothers. There were always things he could do on Earth, even things that didn't involve the oldest Winchester. Chasing some spawn of Lucifer sounded like a viable alternative. Anything would be acceptable really. That the office may actually be divine punishment had occurred to him, but if so, it was just the stage. The truly mind numbing torture was listening to Joshua go on and on about 'projected strategic market force image improvements'. Castiel was shocked the first time he felt the urge to smack his brother and tell him that he was speaking gibberish. But of course, he could not do that.

After the summoning in that old house, Crowley had been marginally helpful with his information; he had been in a surprisingly good mood actually. Whenever Castiel asked a question, Crowley would glance at Dean and a low refined chuckle would follow. Several times he had mentioned a wad in Dean's pants. That had made Castiel a bit angry – Why would a demon be interested in anything in his hunter's pants?

On top of everything, his plans for the purging of tarnish from the Grace of all his brothers were actually going quiet smoothly. Since God had allowed his Angels more free will, several had noticed certain less than pure intentions among the brethren. The thing about free will that had surprised many angels was how it led to feelings. They not only could choose to do something or not, they could be excited, angry, or resentful about it.

It appeared Castiel was simply meant to be a force of change in Heaven, and he latched on to that purpose. Now, if he could only change the required 'tps report' he had yet to fill out, things would be falling into line perfectly.

So the only thing left to do, as far as Castiel could see, was to sit back and think about Dean. He could have spent his time working on reports, or even refining his strategy, but honestly… He felt removed from Heaven right now. It was so changed; Castiel was so changed. The only thing that felt real and solid, aside from his love for his Father, were his feelings for Dean.

What a wonderful world Dean had opened up for him. They had been on exactly three real dates. Dean had taken him to dinner twice, a movie once, and tonight was their fourth date - a long drive. Cas was not exactly sure how that counted as a date though. If a long drive was a date, then what about all the long drives Dean took with Sam; the two of them were most definitely not dating. There were also the long drives Dean would take alone sometimes.

It had never occurred to the Host that love for a single thing, as opposed to a group, was possible. Love was an inferior concept to the all encompassing love pouring from an angel's Grace. At least, Castiel use to think that was true. Now there was no denying Cas got excited when it was time to see Dean. He looked forward to it like nothing in his entire existence. It was very possible Cas was falling a little bit in love with his hunter.

S-S-S-S-S-S

Dean roared down the sun lit rural back road, his baby taking the turns like a champ. A streak of black set against the lush green fields; she was barely contained power and it was sex on wheels. He glanced over at his angel. Cas didn't really like riding in cars, but this was Dean's date.

He stepped on the breaks, silently apologizing to his black beauty for slowing her down, and turned down a partially washed out gravel driveway. Having spent his youth in and out of Bobby's house, he knew where all the good make out spots had been back in the day. Earlier in the week, he'd scouted out a few to see if they would still suit – this one was the best.

"Dean, since we are dating now, I need to ask – are we going steady?" Cas asked out of nowhere.

The hunter's brain literally did a spit take. Huh? "Going Steady? Like in high school with class rings and letterman jackets?"

"I already have a coat, and I don't require a ring. Though if you have one you would like me to wear, I will." It was said with such honesty that Dean smiled.

"AH – no ring Cas – sorry." Hoping that would be enough. Of course not. Dean couldn't even remember the last time he had even dated somebody seriously enough to think about this sort of thing.

"I might not have phrased my question well. Are you dating anyone else or do you plan to?"

"Fuck Cas – of course not. I'm a – um – one angel guy. Plus, when exactly would I have time? We're together all the time. And that's a good thing as far I'm concerned," Dean added quickly noticing the frown lines forming between those intense blue eyes.

"So we are going steady." The angel stated with no small amount of satisfaction in his voice and on his face.

"Sure Cas, we can go steady," Dean smiled fondly at his odd ball angel.

At the end of the driveway, an old brick chimney rose into the tree tops. The remains of the old house were lost to the forest creeping back to claim the land. A little spooky when he was younger, but perfect for trying to score. Not that he expected to score with Cas. Yet. Maybe. If Cas begged, Dean was sure he could figure something out.

Yeah, Dean was just that nice of a guy.

"I thought we were going on a date. This appears to be more of a job site," Cas said while looking out the windows.

"Not a job, I promise," Dean grinned.

"And not a date. We go to dinner and movies for dates," Cas told him, looking very serious. "Long walks on the beach are also acceptable according to Sam."

"That's because Sam is a princess. This is a 'Parking Date' Cas. Everybody deserves to have one good parking date," Dean's used the air quotes Cas was so fond. His heart was already doing that stupid flippy thing in his chest.

"A parking date?" Cas asked just like Dean planned. He opened his door, got out, and Cas followed his lead.

"Yep. That's when I take you somewhere and park the car. Then, we get in the back," Dean said while opening the back door and pulling Cas in, "and kiss."

Dean leaned over his angel's lap to close the door, and on his way up he brushed a light kiss on Cas' lips.

"Then, we can do whatever we want without listening out for stupid teenagers, bitch brothers, or cranky old ghosts," Dean nibbled on Cas' lower lip. "Sound good?"

Grabbing Dean's face on either side, Cas enthusiastically flipped his body around, straddling Dean before he could even get a startled moan out.

"It sounds like a very good date to me," Cas whispered.

It didn't take long. Shoes came off so they could get comfortable. Then, jackets and such were shucked, because they were in the way. At some point, Dean pointed out it was getting warm in the car and pulled Cas' shirt off. Next, Cas groaned that if he was shirtless then Dean should be a gentleman and take his off too. Dean of course complied.

The two settled into a languid rhythm of kissing and lingering caressing. The lazy glide of fingers across ribs as lips worshipped bared skin. Hips instinctively seeking contact. Breaking away from the angel for a moment to catch his breath, Dean wondered at the intimacy of the moment.

He looked at Cas, his chest heaving as he drew in ragged breaths. With those expressive eyes, lips completely kiss swollen and red, and half undressed, Cas was the very picture of sullied innocence. And damned if Dean wasn't aching to thoroughly dirty his angel up.

Leaning up into a tender kiss, barely more than a brush of lips, Dean braced Cas' against his body and used his lower body to turn them a little. Dean was now partially laying back against the door while his sexy blue eyed angel nestled over his thighs.

The new position immediately put pressure against both their shafts. Dean moaned while Cas started to writhe against the hard bulge in Dean's pants – building the friction up higher and higher. He bucked up into the tempting firmness.

An electric tingle went through Dean's whole body. Holy fuck he wanted to defile Cas. Flip them over, make Cas scream obscenities as Dean showed his angel how much pleasure the human body was capable of. How fucking hot would it be to hear Cas beg to be owned, screaming for release while clawing Dean's back bloody? Dean growled low in his throat, this was about to be over entirely too soon.

"Whoa, slow down – it's not a race," Dean rumbled into the quiet car, his hands slowing the erotic press of hips against his own. "Plenty of time," Dean murmured huskily to himself as much as Cas, pressing wet kisses into the valley at the base of Cas' neck.

The moan that crashed through the car spoke of the raw need Cas was trying to pull back. Dean was pulled into a kiss that sent his head reeling. Cas started with a stinging bite on Dean's lower lip that forced a ragged gasp from the hunter as Cas dove in, aggressively plundering Dean's mouth.

Latching his arms around the angel, Dean pulled them together. Their chests were moist with sweat and slid against one another. The movement sent a forceful rush of lust straight to Dean's cock. Feeling his body tighten, Dean pushed his protesting angel up until Cas was perched back on Dean's legs. There was no way either of them were going to last long at this rate.

"I want to try something, ok?" Dean said, noticing the fogged windows for the first time as he looked into Cas' face. With no hesitation, the angel nodded his head – still panting too hard to speak.

Reaching down, Dean undid his pants before reaching up and undoing Cas'. With the two of them in this position, there wasn't much room to move, but it would work just fine.

"Show me. Touch yourself for me baby," Dean whispered hoarsely, his face ablaze. He wasn't sure why he felt so embarrassed asking. With Cas already sitting half naked on top of him, Dean worried just a little that his voyeuristic kink might be a bit much for somebody so new to sex.

"I have never done that," Cas said with a hitch in his voice. Never been touched by anybody but Dean, not even himself. Dean felt his hips roll a little under Cas' weight.

"Jesus Cas – do you have any idea…" Dean trailed off before suddenly yanking Cas back down against his body. Dean's lips went straight to Cas' smooth neck. Without mercy, the hunter bit harshly into the flesh with bruising force, sucking while his teeth scraped the sensitive skin. This wasn't a little love bite – Dean wanted to claim Cas. His.

Cas grunted and grabbed Dean's head roughly pulling him harder into his neck before letting loose with a rough "More."

Dean growled. If Cas was so eager for his body to carry Dean's brand, then so be it. Dean reached behind his angel and, where he imagined the wings would come out, raked blunt nails down the smooth pristine skin. Red scratches glowed as Cas started to utterly fall apart.

"Touch me, please," Cas urged quietly while pushing away from Dean with his back arched and a low moan in his throat.

Without missing a beat, Dean reached down and started to strip his jeans off. It was difficult in the backseat of a car with two large grown men. Cas' hands rested gently on the jeans and they vanished, quickly followed by his own. One more reason it was handy dating an angel.

"Watch what I do," Dean said wrapping his hand around his straining cock. Slowly he moved from base to tip, taking time to rub his fingertip around in the pearls of liquid that kept leaking out.

Ever the good student, Cas followed the example and quickly tried new angles and various speeds. Dean watched his angel's face as he pleasured himself for the first time. Wonder, desire, ecstasy were all written across the normally stoic face. The sounds that Cas made were damn near pornographic as he fucked his hand.

Dean almost came when Cas opened his eyes and looked right at Dean fisting himself for all he was worth. And he might have been able to hold out longer, if Cas hadn't reached between their bodies with no warning and cupped Dean's balls, carefully rolling them in his smooth hand with a slight tug. That was all it took – Dean's orgasm overtook him.

"Cas – fuck! Yes," he yelled, tensing as pleasure jolted through every nerve in his whole body. His damn toes even curled with the overwhelming sensation.

When he opened his eyes, the look on Cas face was one of pure fascination, and his hand stopped mid stroke as he watched. Dean reached down and ran his fingers through the release on his belly, gathering just enough to coat his hand. He nudged Cas' hand aside and started moving his own slick hand up and down his angel's cock.

"Sexy as hell when I mess you up, Cas –," Dean growled. "Wanna' feel you come on me."

With those words lingering in the air, Cas' hand joined over Dean's and within moments, jets of white coated Dean's stomach, layering together with his own.

It took both more than a few moments to come down from the post orgasmic high and calm their breathing to a normal level. When Dean made a comment about needing a napkin, Cas simply vanished the mess away. Dean smiled at his angel. It didn't get better than this.

"Where did you learn that," Dean motioned towards his groin with a cupped hand tugging the air, "– awesomeness." There was no spike of jealousy over possible ex-lovers and being compared. No curiosity over who had taught his angel that awesome fucking ball yank thing. No anxiety over not measuring up.

"Was it spying on humans? Or research?" Dean teased his angel who was sporting a small smug sort of satisfied smile. Cas sighed a little before resting his head on Dean's chest.

"God – what do you do all day in heaven Cas? Watch porn? Cause you got skills man," Dean grinned.

"I felt it prudent to study both literary and visual records of various sexual acts and techniques."

"Can't say I have any complaints so far," Dean murmured, running his fingers through the slightly damp hair at the nape of his angel's neck.

"I am sure you have had plenty of practical experience, but I would like to feel prepared for when we have intercourse," Cas said while looking up into Dean's eyes with an air of excited expectation.

"Ah – yeah. Ya' know – this is going just fine the way it is. No need to rush into – um, intercourse," Dean spoke quickly, his gut dropping. "We're just fine the way we are, right? Hot sweaty sexy fun!"

"Have you not had anal sex?" Cas asked dropping small kisses on Dean's collar bone.

"Of course I've never had a dick up my ass!," Dean said starting to feel the bands of steel tighten in his chest. "You're the first dude I've ever kissed. Why would you think I would do that?" Dean felt like all the air in the car had vanished.

This conversation was not one he ever wanted to have. After going from 100% female loving super stud, he could now not only kiss Cas, touch him, date him, but even his jack off fantasies centered around his dark haired, blue eyed angel. Why couldn't that be enough?

Cas' eyes carefully searched Dean's face. He wasn't comfortable with any of this. Weren't they just basking in the glow of some pretty intense carnal activities?

"The act disgusts you," the angel stated plainly.

"It's just not – Just stop talking about it. I'm fine with this," Dean waved his hands between their naked bodies. "Just stop about butt sex."

"Would you be more comfortable if I were to be penetrated? I would not object to sharing roles in the bedroom," Cas asked, his face completely expressionless.

"God Cas!" Dean shouted, not noticing the angel flinch, "– I'm not talking about this anymore!"

Dean looked around for his pants before remembering they were where ever angels sent things they poofed away. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head.

"One more question Dean, and then I think we can call this date over for the evening," Cas said with a flat coldness in his voice.

"If you are not interested in having sex with me, and you have made it abundantly clear you require sex on a regular basis for the entire time I have known you – including paying jezebels for it, then what exactly are you doing with me?" Cas asked and quickly disappeared off Dean's lap before the words fully settled in his head.

Fuck.

S-S-S-S-S-S

Thank you Indigomyst00 =)

And I forgot in my last chapter to thank Slasherfiend14 – that seriously made my day and I wrote like 13 pages in one sitting from your kind words!

If you like it then you should put a review on it ;) Thanks!


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

_invidia_ – Latin for Envy – _"The pain caused by the good fortune of others"_ – Aristotle (_Rhetoric_)

S-S-S-S-S-S

Dean sat in his car outside the house. He felt numb. This wasn't the first fight he had while in a relationship, and it wasn't his first fight with Cas. But it was the first fight while in a relationship with Cas. Add to that, this was Cas' first relationship ever, Dean's first with a man/angel, and Dean was a little screwed up about the whole butt love – well, that just added up to one big clusterfuck.

Everything was easier when he would just go to a bar, drink beer, flirt, and then go have hot string free sex. None of this touchy-feely crap to talk about, and more importantly, none to actually have think about. If he was going to stay sane, he should just go to a bar. Start with a few brews, break out the flirty smile, and…

Shit. He couldn't even lie like that to himself. Dean didn't want to sleep with any random women. He wasn't interested in anybody but Cas. And did Cas even get how fucking monumental that was? Did he even understand how earth shattering it was for Dean to want Cas for more than getting off with?

The Kiss. In his mind, the moment Cas pressed his innocent lips against Dean's had become The Kiss. There was life before The Kiss and life after The Kiss. Until today, life after The Kiss had been amazing. Like waking up and suddenly seeing color for the first time. It changed everything. And yes, he gagged a little when he thought about how damn sappy that sounded.

Dean had never even thought about guys or serious relationships, and certainly not both together. Now he was going steady with an Angel of the Lord – Well, he had been. Who knows what Cas was thinking about the status of their relationship right now? The crazy part of all this? Even though he had never thought about it before The Kiss, this was his perfect apple pie white picket fence life. Hunting with Cas, kissing, touching him every day, seeing Sam and Bobby, living in the run down old house that was the closest thing to a home he had ever known… That all added up to perfection for Dean. Oh, and beer. Beer was also part of the picture.

Now it was all in jeopardy because Dean was uncomfortable discussing butt love. Sam had said it was enjoyable, and as much shit as Dean gave to his brother, Sammy wasn't a lair.

It was just that pleasure hadn't been Dean's experience. Why couldn't Cas just be happy with hand jobs, maybe a blowjob and humping like there was no tomorrow? Felt pretty damn awesome from Dean's point of view.

He sounded like a girl. Maybe he should be Princess Deanna, future Queen of the Land of Midol.

What did Cas even want anyway? What the hell did Dean want? Honestly? Dean just wanted to hunt and lay in bed with Cas with room service and cheeseburgers with a few cold ones. They could take a couple of hot sexy showers, exchange messy blow jobs, and make out like teenagers. That sounded like an excellent vision of heaven to him.

So, as ass backwards as it was, Dean was being pressured into having sex before he was ready – if he ever would be ready. By an angel. Crap, next he would be starring in an after school special. Kids, be sure to never let an angel try and talk you into butt stuff if you're not ready!

Well, if Dean was going to keep Cas… fuck. He needed to follow Sam's advice and watch some gay porn. Or some research like Cas. He would never tell either one of them about that.

He would start tomorrow. Yep, tomorrow would be perfect. Not tonight. It was late and the internet was sure to be slow because it was kinda' cold outside. That sounded good enough for Dean. Tomorrow was soon enough.

S-S-S-S-S-S

Cas hadn't been around in a few days. Since it had been unusually quiet on the hunting front, there had no real reason to call him down. And instead of bitching and making life miserable for everybody else, Dean had decided to get his hands dirty. It wasn't his usual go to of working on the cars or smashing the hell out of rusted out clunkers, but really getting his hands dirty by cleaning.

Bobby no longer picked up the house after the brothers jumped in the car, rushing to the next hunt; it had become clear that Dean and Sam could be slobs if given the chance. So Dean cleaned. He cleared the counters, scrubbed the floor, dusted the rooms, organized the books, and cleaned out the refrigerator. After the fourth time he emptied the vacuum canister, he was actually fairly disgusted that he had eaten a cookie from the floor last week. What the fuck was all this crap?

"Classic avoidance," Sam said from the doorway, leaning against it like a bitch.

"Or maybe classic 'Get your ass in gear and help, you lazy butt munch," Dean muttered. Yep. He knew he was avoiding his problems. It was a time honored tradition for him, and nobody was better at avoiding shit than Dean fucking Winchester.

"Whatever. Listen, I'll grab the trash on my way out. I was just coming to let you know I'll be back late tonight. I need to shake the cobwebs off and get out of the house for a bit. Why don't you take your apron off and come with?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, no. I don't really think so," Dean muttered while pulling the trash bag out and tying it off. "I'm not in the mood to get drunk."

"That's a first," Sam poked. Why did little brothers have to be so God damn annoying?

"Shut it, dude. Seriously - not in the mood for your shit right now," Dean wasn't in a bad mood per se – more like he was churning stuff around in his head. He had been putting off his… that whole research project and had promised himself he would start tonight.

"I have to do some research –," Dean stopped talking when he looked at the light in Sam's eyes. Crap. What the hell was wrong with his dork of a brother that mentioning anything remotely geeky sounding and it was like catnip to a cat. Weird shit.

"Great – I can help. We can go to the Roadhouse tomorrow night or something," Sam got that eat shit happy bright smile Dean only got when he was three sheets to the wind.

"You know what Sammy? I changed my mind," because no way in hell would Sam be helping Dean find out about gay lovin'. "A cold beer sounds perfect."

"Oh, okay. Maybe I can help when we get back then," Sam said sounding a little put out that he wouldn't be geeking out all night. Only Sam would be upset at having a beer instead of sitting in front of a computer or books all night.

"Yeah, sounds good," Dean lied. By the time they got back, he planned to either have Sammy drunk as a skunk, or he would think of some bullshit for Sam to look up. Maybe Sammy could look up how to fix that stupid leaking sink. One less thing for Dean to do.

S-S-S-S-S-S

Dean had told him time and time again that he should not spy on people or look in their thoughts without asking. Cas had kept out of Dean's head since before he decided to first kiss him. It kept the 'playing field even' Dean said. Fine, Cas could respect that.

Well, Dean was sitting in a public place – so it was not exactly spying.

But now he watched his… was Dean even still his steady boyfriend? Did a fight mean they had broken up? What was the correct social protocol in these situations? No, Dean would have surely told Cas if they were broken up. He settled into a darkened corner and watched his boyfriend drink a beer while chatting with the slim blond bartender and Sam. There was no fear of being discovered; Cas had cloaked himself in-between dimensions.

As he watched, his thoughts raced. Why had a very pleasant date turned so foul so very quickly at the end? Did he even believe Dean would look for sex elsewhere? Or was it more fear? Fear that he would realize they shouldn't be together. That in the end, Dean could never love him.

Cas was not stupid; he knew Dean and Sam had talked about how odd and socially maladjusted he was in their world. In order to better fit in, he watched films, read books, and watched humans interact. Though human watching had been a hobby in the past, it became a serious study in the dynamics of sociobiology.

And still, Cas felt inadequate. He lacked that spark would enable him to interact with Dean in his world. It was exhausting mentally to always analyze every conversation as it was happening to see if he could find the social cues in time to respond correctly. What did he get for his effort? Derision. Eye rolls. Sometimes even 'Cas, shut up'.

Cas stood up and started to pace a small circuit in his empty corner – eyes never leaving Dean's carefree face. Casually tipping the bottle up to his lips with a smile for the strikingly beautiful bartender he was talking to. She was talking a lot it seemed. Her mouth never stopped moving, and even though it seemed mildly rude, Dean nodded along with her and occasionally interjected a comment that made her bark out a rough laugh before continuing on her tirade. Well, it may or may not have been an actual tirade. Cas was fairly sure he was beyond being fair about this situation right now.

Actually, he needed to step back and look at the big picture. For Dean, it did not appear to matter who he struck up a conversation with – anybody, anywhere. He could charm old ladies, middle aged men, animals, young children, and once a baby. There were even a couple of demons panting after him. He always knew when to do the right thing, say the perfect words, or run like hell.

The problem was not the woman who appeared to have a serious medical problem with her mouth moving all the time. It was not even Cas.

Dean.

Cas wanted to be like Dean. He wanted to have a conversation with a stranger and not get that odd, almost fearful look. He wanted people to not dismiss him because he was not as muscular as Dean, because to be honest, Castiel was the better warrior. He wanted to be charming and easy to talk to.

Cas stopped pacing and looked across the room. Just for once, he wanted Dean to feel what he felt. It would be interesting to see Dean try and live in Cas' world. Dean would never be able to fit in, never understand conversations, never connect to a single angel the way he would want to. How would Dean Winchester handle a life of caring for someone in whose world he could never fit?

And Father help him, Cas wanted Dean to feel it. The dejection and loneliness. The bitter taste of failure after failure. Cas wanted to rip the easy smile and charm out of Dean and make him socially awkward, but he would still have the beautiful face and remarkable smile. Even if Dean suddenly had to rely on a body more suited for holding a file folder than smashing skulls, he would still be amazing.

But, no matter. Wanting Dean to be less, himself more – all it came down to was Cas really wanting Dean to want him. Equal footing. Dean demanded Cas not use his powers in their relationship, but he never returned the favor. He was scared of what this all meant. Scared of never being enough for Dean

Cas winged his way outside the bar. His jealousy and resentment simmered in his belly; it was better that he leave now before he followed the infuriating anger to its conclusion.

For the first time in his existence Castiel understood why people did bad things in the name of jealousy and envy. His Grace shivered. The singing harmony of Heaven that surrounded him at all times sounded far off.

S-S-S-S-S-S

It was not until much later that Castiel would remember the stories of that singing beginning to fade before Lucifer fell; by the time he did remember, the Heavenly choir was almost silent in his mind.

S-S-S-S-S-S

Sociobiology is the systematic study of the biological basis of all forms of social behavior

Thank you Indigomyst00 for making sure I didn't embarrass myself with typos ;)

So, no smutty lemons in this one, but I have a fairly nice lemon tree growing near a cell tower in the next chapter that will soon give us many lemons!

Reviews rock and make writing so much more fun. Leave one and let me know if you enjoyed?


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

_humanitas_ – Latin for Kindness – "Charity, compassion and friendship for its own sake. Empathy and trust without prejudice or resentment. Unselfish love and voluntary kindness without bias or spite."

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

Cas stood outside the bar for hours trying to calm his thoughts and settle his emotional turmoil. It was one thing to want something for yourself – that in and of itself could be dangerous. But to want to take away from Dean was another thing completely. It was beyond wrong.

As he paced the sidewalk opposite the lively bar, Dean and Sam left. Most importantly, he watched Dean leave without the pretty bartender he had been talking to. The knot in his belly eased, but he still felt that burn of bile in the back of his throat. Cas sat on a bench and watched the bar awhile longer; his mind lost in thought.

This is why the Host were genderless. This is why their only love was to their Father. The emotions overwhelmed him; no wonder humans were forever going to war. Once free will had taken root, humanity had changed.

In the beginning, Adam and Eve shared a love for each other and all creatures. After the apple and ejection from Eden, they had fought. Anger and regret burned through their hearts until time healed the wounds. Then Cain and Abel. However tragic that day ended, Castiel remembered thinking to himself that if only Father had accepted both brothers equally, none of it would have happened.

Time slipped away from him and before long the lights on the front of the bar went out. The front door opened and the chatty bartender came out. Her hands carried several loaded bags on either side and a few heavy looking boxes on top of her arms. As the door behind her clicked shut, she turned and used one of her only free fingers to give the door a tug. She nodded to herself and started walking down the street to the only car left parked in the small lot adjacent to the strip the bar was in.

Castiel was not able to see into the future like a psychic, but he could clearly see the dip in the pavement; without a doubt he knew this woman was going to fall. It was unlikely she would be hurt badly, but what good was free will if you couldn't choose to help Cas crossed the street, his unsettled heart felt lighter as he lengthened his stride to reach her before she could stumble.

He stepped on to the sidewalk just a moment before she could take the misstep and fall. He didn't miss the weariness in her eyes as she stopped and looked at him. She was a single woman alone on a dark street in the middle of the night with her arms loaded and no ability to defend herself. He could feel the fight or flight instinct in every move she made now.

Though she couldn't see it, he immediately spread his massive wings and arched one down low and towards her. She would never know why, but the affect was noticeable; the tension in her shoulders eased slightly. Humans could sense divine presence much like bird could sense magnetic north. And as a bird would fly towards that northern pole, so to would a human turn to face the radiant warmth of God's love coming from his wings.

"Allow me to help," Cas spoke quietly and before she could say a word, he had scooped up the boxes. It was a measured move. He was now the one with no defense, and she had the power. The smile that spread across her face was gracious as she led the way to her car.

"Thank you so much," she started. "It was going to be a struggle to get everything. I should have just taken multiple trips, but… well, I didn't. Obviously." Oh yes, she liked to talk. A lot.

"I've been organizing party bags, wrapping gifts, and hiding everything at work so my son wouldn't find it. His birthday is tomorrow, and my husband and I are throwing him a surprise party. We just moved into town and all his friends from his old school are coming. Well, not all – most. I hate secrets, so it's been so hard to keep it from him. I've been boring everybody in the bar all week talking about it non-stop." She finally paused to take a breath and laughed into the night.

"Anyway," she said popping the trunk open on her car and placing the bags inside, "Thank you so much – it's always nice to meet a kind person just doing a good deed. I'm Sarah by the way."

"Castiel," he returned and placed the boxes in the trunk next to her bags. He shifted them around so there was room for the lid to close before turning to face her again.

"It was my pleasure. Enjoy your son's birthday, and may you all be blessed in his next year," Cas said, repeating the old blessing he'd learned long ago from a small city-state in Greece. It had always seemed to him to be the best way to wish someone well on their birthday.

"Thank you again for your random act of kindness!" she said touching his arm briefly before getting in her car with a bounce in her step.

As she drove off, Cas was struck by several things. The first was shame. He had been jealous of a happily married woman who, based on the past few minutes, had been telling Dean about her son's party plans most likely. Next was the warm feeling of happiness that he had helped such a good hearted person. And also relief that she hadn't wanted to talk more. Cas wasn't fool enough to think he could have even remotely held up his end of an extended conversation with such a gregarious woman.

Cas flew off. The way he was thinking and feeling was disturbing. Free will was a 'bag of dicks' as Dean would say.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

Dean could do this. He had sold his soul, gone to hell, and even bound Death that one time. So…

_Cas – Don't pop in. Can we talk like this? –D_

He hit send. He was turning into a fucking high school kid. Texting. So it wasn't the brave option; not everybody was brave all the time.

_If u like –C_

Damn it, if he took the time to type out the whole word, couldn't Cas? If lols and crap started showing up, he was burning his phone. Crap. What was he supposed to say now? Dear Cas, I'm willing to look into butt stuff, because I don't want to get dumped by a freaking angel. Love, Pussy/Dick whipped Dean.

_How was your day? And remember, it's you not u. Sam was wrong about text shorthand. –D_

God that was lame. Of course, on the bright side, Cas most likely wouldn't get exactly how lame Dean was acting. That helped a little. And he got to call Sammy wrong – that was always a good thing.

_Understood, you not u. Today I designed an 'organizational flow chart' and twice snuck into Joshua's office to move things around. He is very upset that things are not where he left them. Michael called an all angels 'on deck' meeting and announced we would now have quotas and everyone was meeting theirs. He did not explain what the quotas would be of, but my brothers were all nodding and very impressed. I expressed to Maricle that I would not be surprised if the quotas were changed in the next quarter. She has been the primary culprit in spreading gossip about our relationship. She did exactly as I thought she would and started a wild rumor that Michael was planning on changing the quotas and cutting expenses. None of us know what expenses we could have, but everyone is very worried now. I also met with a very kind homeless man who offered me a cat. I did not accept the cat, but the cat looked very sad. I have been thinking it was a mistake to not take the cat. After that, you texted me. -C_

Well, that was certainly… Long. And as usual, Cas answered exactly what was asked. So, what now genius? And… Wow. Angel's gossiped about his love life. Fantastic. No way that was creepy or fucked up.

_Sounds interesting –D_

What. The. Hell. Nut up Dean screamed at himself.

_No, it was not interesting at all. Except the cat. And starting a rumor. And causing Michael headaches. And tricking Joshua – that was very entertaining. I am planning on putting a Lego in his in box tomorrow. Each day, I will add another, until finally I have enough to slowly build a castle. He won't remove them, because we have been told to file everything from our in box in the correct place. Today, I added a small piece of paper on his desk that says "Legos here". It will be quite the amusing prank. I am still going to move things on his desk. –C_

The hunter was momentarily tempted to ask if the Lego castle was a set or if Cas was just building one from random parts. And how many parts where there to the castle? Seriously, how long was this angel version of an office prank going to take to play out? He and Sam usually went straight for farting on pillows and putting salt in water. Nice normal stupid stuff.

_Turning into another Gabriel there Cas –D_

_I am not turning into an archangel. –C_

Dean thumped his head on the table he was sitting at. Okay, no small talk with the 'everything you say is exactly what you mean' angel.

_Are you angry at me? –D_

There – direct. That should be an easy one to answer.

_Yes – C_

Well, he pretty much expected that one. Crap. This one-sided conversation thing was freaking hard. On top of everything else, it was about to get all emo and crap. He was going to need to shave his legs after this.

_Sorry –D_

There – he said it. Done and Done. He felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. He had apologized and that was his main goal tonight.

_Are you sorry for hurting me, using my body for carnal gratification when you were not serious about a relationship, or rejecting the very idea of intercourse with me? Are you sorry for asking me for a date to begin with? What exactly are you sorry for?_

Fuck. He was screwed. How the hell was he supposed to answer that? God, girls knew how to do this stuff. Girls like Sam. They could talk and write and get shit out of their systems and make everything better. Dean had just said 'sorry', and there was this crap-fest to deal with. It was like God was playing 'Let's Screw Dean Up Because Fuck Him'.

Seriously, what was he sorry for? How about for his God damned fear of butt love and pain? He was sorry for being a wreck and making everything fall apart, because he couldn't man up. Oh, and sorry for bringing the whole thing up in the first place. He never should have even started texting. Crap. The tightness in his chest almost physically hurt to breath. Nope. Not doing this – but fuck!

_I can't do this. Just come here, go through my head, and then go away again and text me back. Please?_

Done. Either come or don't. There was only so much he was willing to say, and never face to face about this stupid shit that happened – or text.

Dean laid back, closed his eyes, and put his phone on his chest. Today sucked.

S-S-S-S-S-S

Cas loved New York City. Since humanity began building their structures of mud and straw, he had marveled at their cleverness. When the pyramids were constructed, he watched in awe at their intelligence and perseverance. Time and time again they exceeded themselves, building on past success as well as failure. It was really the last one hundred years that humanity showed why they were truly God's most beloved and cherished. The pure industry and ingenuity.

Sitting on the top of Chrysler Building, Cas looked up from his phone. That was odd. Dean had been very clear that no one was allowed to enter his mind. Ever. It was an extremely important rule that Cas had learned over time; Dean had yelled it at him repeatedly.

Looking through Dean's thoughts was not something to be done lightly. For such a righteous man, his mind was bleak. It had not been much of hardship to promise Dean that privacy.

What could possibly be so important that Dean would allow his rule to be broken?

Cas stood up and popped himself into Dean's room. He was laying on the bed, but it was clear he was not asleep. His whole body had tensed the moment Cas entered the room.

Cas put his finger on Dean's head and dove in. Dean had pushed everything into the front of his mind. The memories were so clear - He had been thinking about it for a while it appeared.

Like a bulletin board with pictures tacked up, each memory sat in its place. Waiting. The moment you looked at the memory, it was like a multi-dimensional film. The sounds, smells, feelings, and sights surrounded you, bringing you into the memory that played at super speed – dumping all the information it contained into a quick jolt.

Here was one of Dean when he was in his late teens. His face was so much younger looking. Not innocent by any means, but not yet weighed down by the worries his life would bring. The plain arousal Cas could feel in the moment was staggering. This was very clearly an adventurous time in Dean's sexual life, and he was frenzied in his desire to partake. Dean lay naked on a messed up bed in what was clearly a girl's room. She was naked and pleasuring herself in front of Dean. A small pink object was thrusting in and out of her body much to her obvious pleasure.

The girl was bossy and a couple of years older, which was the only reason Cas could account for what happened next. The girl removed the object and asked Dean to roll over. The look on Dean's face was not one Cas would forget soon. The desperate lust thrumming through the memory made Cas both jealous and intrigued.

Much to the angel's shock, this younger Dean did roll over. What happened next was a blur. The memory seemed to skip like a scratched record, bouncing from one second to another. Disjointed. Dean's face contorted with a scream, his body stiff, a look of shock and fear on the girl, Dean pulling that object from his backside. Blood.

Cas felt ill. The next few moments where a jumble as well, but the emotional flavor was clear. Pain, shame, embarrassment. Dean sneaking off to a clinic and getting examined by a strange doctor with a less than kind expression.

Horror filled Cas as he was thrust into newer moments. Cas casually mentioning his research into anal sex. The total shock of the topic rendered Dean near catatonic inside. That must be why Cas never felt anything from that small amount of Grace in Dean. Normally he would have felt such a rapid and stark change in his hunter's emotional state.

Next came the parking date – Cas did not need to see that since it had been playing in his own mind on a repeating loop. What did stick out to Cas was the strength of Dean's desire for him. While it felt different than a teenager's lust, this yearning was just as strong.

Cas started pulling back. He knew enough at this point, there was no reason to continue what Dean considered a violation of privacy. Before he was able to leave, something else caught his attention. It was a small moment; not pushed forward for Cas to see, but there all the same.

It was Dean staring into the night sky trying to decide how to give the angel what he wanted. Fear and panic roiled through the hunter, but the fear was of being left alone and panic of losing his best friend. It was fear of Cas leaving him again; after all the damnation, torture, fighting, and death, Dean had suffered through… Cas was viewed as his reward. And Dean was willing to do anything to keep it. Father above knew – when Dean Winchester was willing to do anything for somebody, it wasn't idle talk.

Guilt and shame weighed heavily on the angel as he pulled back into the room. Dean still lay on the bed stiff and eyes closed. But now, where there had been determined look on his face, there was a tangible vulnerability. This was Cas' responsibly. This was his to repair, not Dean's.

The moment of silence while Cas tried to decide what to do seemed to stretch. He wanted to hold his hunter and make everything better. Or wipe that memory away if Dean would let him. He started to reach for Dean's hand when he quietly said, "Please, just go text me." Eyes never opened. That was how his hunter dealt with emotions. He did not talk about it, and he did not cry, but he did try.

S-S-S-S-S-S

_I didn't realize –C_

Dean let a deep breath out. That mind reading crap was way better than putting a dress on and talking.

_I know. –D_

What Dean didn't add was that he should have brought it up sooner. He knew Cas was interested; it really wasn't the angel's fault for not knowing it was a no go topic.

_I am sorry. We do not have to do that. I am not going to leave. –C_

Dean's drew in a deep lungful of air for what felt like the first time days and let it out in a slow steady stream. The tension that had been across his chest and shoulders eased.

_Glad you're sticking around. I'm working on it –D_

Right. Research and gay porn. It was on the list of things to do. Yep. Still on the list. In the morning. Gay porn was always less traumatizing in the morning. Everybody knew that.

_I will not pressure you again. I promise. –C_

And Dean knew he wouldn't. As far as Cas was concerned, that was the end of it. Dean knew it would have to be him who brought it up again. And he would – because Cas did want to have actual sex.

_Sometimes pressure isn't bad –D_

Queen! _Um boom ba bay – ba ba boom ba be be – Pressure. Pushing down on me, pressing down on you no man ask for – under pressure._ Dean thumped his hands on the make shift drum set that currently looked like a table. God, it was a damn shame he couldn't find that tape for the car.

_Where you gravely injured? I did not notice any permanent injures when I rebuilt you –C_

The drumming ended, though his mind would now be singing Under Pressure for the next few hours.

_No, not even stitches. Just – she didn't do it right –D_

Done done done. Remember – no more talking about it. Remember Cas?

_She did not prepare you? –C_

God may have returned to Heaven, but He clearly was not keeping his rebellious little angels in line if they weren't going to keep promises about not pressuring! Wasn't that like just a minute ago?

_Jesus Cas – no she didn't, and she didn't use lube. Hurt like a motherfucker. Okay, done now. Moving on -D_

Dean looked around for rock salt. If another question about his ass showed up, this phone was toast.

_How can I make this up to you? I do not like this feeling inside me –C_

How… oh - hehehe

_A blowjob ;) -D_

S-S-S-S-S-S

I have been drumming Under Pressure for the past 2 hours. I just thought maybe if I past the curse of "this stupid song is stuck in my head" on it might help. It hasn't so far.

Also, the lemon tree had to be placed in the next chapter. While making lemonade I got carried away and it turned into a not only lemonade, but a lemon tart or two as well ;)

AN – I would really appreciate a review if you have a second. Every one seriously makes my day – Like your random act of kindness for the day!


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

_You have enemies? Good. That means you've stood up for something, sometime in your life._ – Winston Churchill

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

_How can I make this up to you? I do not like this feeling inside of me –C_

How… oh – hehehe.

_A blowjob ;) -D_

'I'll teach you later babe – you and me and that perfect mouth of yours. Yep. Your eyes screwed shut, mouth wide open moaning around my dick. Fuck yes. You'll love the feeling of my cock in your mouth angel' Dean thought to himself, twisting on the bed so the fabric of his pants would rub across his hardening cock.

_Ah. Oral sex will make it up to you. What is ;)? –C_

_I was kidding – you don't have to blow me for that. ;) is a winky. Though maybe =0 would be better –D_

_What is =0?_

_Like when your mouth is wide open –D_

Dean sat up and pulled his shirt off. He caught his breath as the cooler air caused his nipples to pucker. After dealing with stress and uncertainty, he was going to jack himself off like no tomorrow. Maybe Cas would even want to play along.

_So my mouth would be wide open while giving you oral sex. I see =0 I am not sure I understand why my eyes would be lines, I think ;0 or even :0._

Dean rubbed his nipple and pinched thinking about Cas between his legs winking up at him while sucking.

_Have you gotten yourself off since that night? –D_

_I have not –C_

Dean toed off his shoes and unbuckled his belt.

_You thought about me at all? Gotten hard? –D_

_Yes I have. I am erect right now –C_

Dean would have to work on Cas' dirty talk. Not that he had worked on it – Dean just had a filthy mouth whenever his dick got any attention. He pushed his jeans and boxers down in one motion. He laid back on the cool sheets and picked his phone back up.

_Wanna' practice? –D_

Closing his eyes, Dean started to lazily run his fingers up and down his length. Listening to Cas get off would be the perfect way to finish off this hell of a day.

_Practice being erect? I am pretty sure I am very good at it –C_

Laughter rang through the room as Dean's stress completely melted away. God, he loved his angel. How do you ask said angel for phone sex without getting into a discussion of how phones couldn't have sex?

_Call me and we can listen to each other jack off –D_

Holy shit, Sammy better never look through his text messages. Within seconds his phone started to ring.

"Hey," he greeted.

"Hello," Cas replied his voice low and that deep gravelly sound rolled over Dean. Fuck.

"Not even going to play right now Cas – get undressed," Dean commanded, his hips rolling on the bed fucking into his hand. He heard a low moan and the rustle of fabric. Damn, that brought images of Cas following Dean's every order. And then Dean could follow Cas' orders and then they could just fuck like wild animals.

"Lay on your back and tell me something Cas – anything. I want to listen to you talk while you practice what I showed you," Dean finished on a groan.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

"D- Dean," was all Cas managed to get out. The images that flashed through his mind made his body feel like it was on fire.

"Tell me what you're doing baby," Dean begged. Cas wasn't sure, but he could swear he heard the sound of Dean pleasuring himself like he had in the car.

"Touching myself, like you did," Cas grunted. He hadn't tried this alone since Dean had showed him how. He remembered how much Dean had enjoyed having his testicles played with. Reaching between his legs, Cas cupped his balls and gave a small pull.

"Oh – Dean!" No wonder this had finished Dean off.

"Tell me," Dean's begged in a low voice.

"I… I did the tug that you…," he whispered into the phone, barely able to take a breath deep enough to even get that out. Why did men even get out of bed if they could do this all the time? It was amazing.

"Um – that you, ah - enjoyed." Cas finished with a stutter. This is why angels' were sexless; they would have just done this instead of watching over creation.

"Mmm," Dean moaned into the phone and Cas was pretty sure he had never in his existence heard anything as arousing.

"You talk, please," Cas all but begged. He could barely keep the phone next to his ear much less form words that made many sense.

"I wanna' hear you come babe," Dean's voice was low and poured like honey over Cas body, spreading through his body. The noise that erupted from his mouth was like nothing he had ever heard.

"Like that? You get me so fucking hard – Castiel Soldier of the Lord. Your damn sword smiting the hell out of evil – You," Deans voice caught and Cas was positive his heart was about to explode. "you look so badass and…"

"Fuck, I can picture you baby – standing in the middle of my bedroom, with those fucking wings I saw. The power, your body so hard and- fuck I want you here over me Cas," Dean was out of breath, and Cas knew his hunter was close to finishing.

It almost wasn't even a choice. Cas moved himself from the private space he'd created the moment he called straight into Dean's bedroom. His hunter was laid out on the bed, hand racing over his cock, with the phone pressed against his ear. His eyes were closed, head tilted back, and hips jutting up from the bed.

Without a word, Cas climbed on the bed and straddled Dean. Laying against the hot body of his hunter, Cas took the phone and put it on the table before claiming Dean's mouth. There was nothing sweet or gentle in the way Dean grabbed his hips and flipped them over.

"Fuck baby," Dean growled into Cas' neck as he started rutting against the angel. Their hips moved in sync and cocks lined up. Cas started keening as he felt his balls tighten.

Dean slowed his pace for a moment, clearly trying to let them both get some measure of control back, but Cas wanted to see his hunter lose it. The angel wanted Dean to lose complete control because of the things Cas could do. It was a heady experience.

With little effort, Cas rolled them over again, bracing himself on Dean's chest. Cas massaged at Dean's pecs, taking time to rub at his nipples the way he had seen when he came in and started rocking his hips at a leisurely pace.

"Dean Winchester, you have no idea what you do to me," Cas mumbled breathlessly before leaning down, he brushed his lips over Dean's. The larger man wrapped his arms around Cas while deepening the kiss.

Brushing kisses across Dean's jaw, Cas made his way down his neck to his shoulder. A small kiss was Dean's only warning before Cas gave in to his own desire and bit down.

Dean's breathing hitched and his whole body jumped as Cas wrung the loudest moan he'd heard from his hunter. Laving his tongue over the abused skin, the angel started sucking fervently.

"You like me marking you, don't you?" Cas murmured against Dean's neck between kisses and bites.

"Damnit – yes," groaned Dean as he grabbed Cas' hips and pulled franticly to increase contact.

"You like having a virgin in your lap, don't you?" Cas asked, knowing his hunter liked the thought of sullying his innocence. To be fair, Cas didn't have a problem with said sullying.

"So fucking hot," Dean muttered throwing his head back. Cas grabbed the feverish hands from his hips pining them over Dean's head.

"Come for me Dean Winchester," Cas whispered in Dean's ear while his hips eagerly moved, begging for a faster pace as Dean's almost frantic thirst for love and possession ran like a drug between them.

"My Hunter." Cas' voice was full of need. The noise Dean made was guttural, drawn from deep inside. A gate opened and all restraint was gone.

"Mine," Dean snarled as he bit into Cas' shoulder and wrapped him tight in his strong arms. Dean's hips thrust desperately; Cas arched into the passionate rutting with wild abandon.

Cas cried out as his orgasm over took him. His toes curled as he struggled to keep his eyes open while his mouth worked to drag in deep panting breaths.

As Cas' release slicked their cocks, Dean followed with his own release. The words stopped making any sense and all Cas could make out was his name a few curse words. He stilled and fell to his side; he was pulled close by a smugly satisfied hunter. Cas vanished the rapidly cooling sticky mess on their bellies.

"Stay," Dean asked, pulling a blanket over their bodies and snuggling the angel into the curve of his body.

"Just want you here." He murmured gently nuzzling the hair at Cas' neck.

"Of course," the angel replied with a contented sigh. Of course he would stay, for as long as Dean wanted him there, Cas would stay.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

Where had Bobby sent them? It was pretty clear the 'pokey little crossroads town' was more like a 'thrumming hot spot for World of Warcraft LARP'. No matter how many times they travelled across the country, it never ceased to surprise Sam that people of like minds could find communities that treated them like family instead of freaks. Charlie would be right at home.

The small town had been in the news recently due to a number of gored bodies and reports of horned bunnies that could fly. After Dean had stopped laughing and teasing a confused looking Cas about going Jackalope hunting, Bobby cut in and asked if Jackalopes ever ate full grown men. So, here they were – hunting something that may or may not have been a Jackalope.

So, when the fine folks started getting ripped into puppy chow, the Winchesters, plus Castiel – Angel of the Lord, had rolled into town to save the day. Great. No muss no fuss. A little rock salt or silver, slice and dice, maybe a salt and burn and then everything returned to whatever passed for normal.

Except not lately. Since the whole apocalypse thing failed to happen, the big bads they had been running into had been steadily getting more bad ass. At first, Sam just thought it was a few isolated cases. But later as he made a list from his notes of old cases, injuries, number of monsters, difficulty in killing, and viciousness it became clear. The supernatural monsters they met on a day to day basis were getting tougher. Almost like survival of the fittest. At this point they were in the "leanest and meanest" stage. That was the only explanation Sam could think of for the steadily declining luck the group was having at finding and killing the various monsters they found themselves hunting.

In all likelihood Sam would have never seen this town, heard of this group of people, or been forced into wearing a small plate of armor over his loin and very little else. The armor had been part of the costume he needed to get information out of a lovely young lady who referred to herself as Queen Penelope. She helped him pick it out, and the less he agreed to wear, the more she talked.

She told him all about the games, the food, the beer, and the awesome sex they could have later. Sam had of course told her he wasn't interested, because he was working on a case and all. Unfortunately, the fucking loin armor was not that concealing. So, Sam had a date tonight and a lot of information to boot.

"Penny says there is a group of Forsaken Warlocks, from the Horde, that have been meeting up in the woods east of town at night for the past few weeks getting drunk and chanting. She says they're creepy," Sam said knowing as he said everything that Dean was going to act like an ass.

"So, Queen Penelope, who dressed you up in some tin foil over your junk and wants to boink your brains out, thinks some guys meeting in the woods are creepy?" Dean was doing his own bitch face. Asswipe.

"Anyway," Sam ignored his brother, "I did some checking. Those guys were in the library looking into folklore in Europe. I scanned through a few books the librarian said they were interested in. I think we might be dealing with a Wolpertinger."

"A what?" Dean said right on cue. God bless his brother – it's a good thing he was a good fighter because he couldn't think his way out of a paper bag some days.

"A Wolpertinger was a Bavarian folklore animal that was a fanged rabbit with wings and antlers." Cas said in his monotone voice.

"HA! A Jackalope?" Dean was rubbing his hands together. "Yes! Just like Dad use to tease us about, right Sammy? Remember going into the woods at night with a flash light and banging cans together calling for the Jackalopes to come out? Good times."

"Dad was laughing at us," Sam reminded his brother.

"With us," Dean replied with a look of 'shut the fuck up' in his eye.

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"It's not the Jackalope; the sightings are pretty clear about wings. Only the Wolpertinger had wings, but it was a hoax of put together animal parts. Like, a taxidermist got bored and started screwing about to see how stupid people could be or something." Sam said and went back to his laptop.

"Dude, how does a non-existent fairy tale wind up eating LARP stew?"

Sam hung his head down a little. Dean was never going to let this go. Never. He would be hearing about it for ages. Can't a guy have one hobby his brother doesn't know about?

"World of Warcraft has pets and the Wolpertinger is one. It's not even a combat pet – just a regular pet, but you can't see them unless you're drunk. You can get them at Brewfest – there are achievements for drinking beer and stuff. Which is why the guys always take beer with them in the woods," Sam said with his eyes closed. He didn't even want to see Dean's expression right now.

"I thought we talked about this Sammy. You promised. You've been on haven't you?"

"If I say no can we just move on before more people die? Please?" This time the puppy dog eyes were real.

"Later – we will talk about this later Sammy," Dean said pointing between himself and his brother.

"How do we kill them?" asked the ever practical Castiel, Soldier of the Lord.

"No idea. I say we go with the staples – rock salt, silver, angel blade, a .22, and a .45, the double barrel, some holy water, an exorcism, Ruby's knife, and maybe even a few hex bags," Sam rattled off.

"Let's get started then," Dean had said pulling one of the duffle bags on the bed and unloading shells.

**S-S-S-S-S-S **

It had usually only taken them a few days in the past to find most of the monsters they hunt, but this time, the search dragged on for over a week. The little shits were too damn good at hiding. The whole time they searched, Dean got more and more frustrated. Which meant Sam got more frustrated.

When they finally found them… Look, Sam wasn't scared of much. He'd been through some deep dark shit. But staring into the eyes of well over a hundred bunnies with wings and horns and fucking sharp fangs? A couple would have been easy. A dozen would have been manageable. This? This was just freaky.

The fluffy balls of murder attacked en mass, so Sam and Dean started their bloody dance. Moving from one kill to the next while avoiding the lunges and fangs that wanted to rip their flesh off, the brothers went through weapon after weapon. Regular firearms were useless; rock salt only made them angrier.

Holy water only got them wet, and the exorcism did nothing. Castiel was able to decapitate one – it seemed like that was the only way to kill the shits. Cutting heads off took time and forced you into close quarters with your prey. That meant you were also closer to danger. The humans made slow progress through the mass of fur and got bit, gored, and spat on. It was easier for Castiel; he never tried to avoid the bites.

It quickly became apparent this group was not just large, but they were smart. Nothing in their experience could have prepared the hunters for what happened next.

As a unit, all the remaining animals fell back to perimeter ten or so feet away. A loud chattering echoed as the Winchesters and Cas drew closer together preparing for an attack. The unknown in a supernatural fight almost never ended well. Too many hunters had found out the hard way what monsters could do – it was how they had the lore. But that knowledge all too often came at the price of the hunter's life.

Later, Castiel would explain what happened next as an encirclement move. It was a military strategy that relied on separating a fighting force and overwhelming the individual elements with massive numbers. The causalities could be high, but the result was almost always the same. The divided foe would fall.

When the cute little fuckers let out what could only be called the least threatening battle cry ever, the ensuing rush was madness. They were quickly forced further apart, and while Castiel was still able to steadily work his way through the hordes of deformed evil bunny pets, Dean and Sam were getting overwhelmed by sheer numbers. Both had bites and scratches, which in and of itself would be nothing to worry about. But like a vulture could strip a carcass one bite at a time, it was wearing them down bit by bit.

"Cas, a little help here," Sam was the first to call out as a Wolpertinger flew to his shoulder, and one jumped up, biting dangerously close to his crotch.

The angel turned and nodded.

"Close your eyes," he commanded and both hunters immediately obeyed. In the blindingly bright light that followed, blessed silence settled over the area.

Sam opened his eyes and looked around. Usually when the angel used his Grace to smoke bad things, there were piles of ash, but this time small bodies littered the ground. His pants were in shreds, blood spotting through what material remained. He could feel his shirt was wet in places and assumed it was more blood.

He looked over at Dean and saw the same thing. Calling out, they all made sure everybody was fine. The surprising thing was Cas – his clothing was in much the same state, and he looked at his blood splattered coat with a frown.

In the mass of tiny furry bodies, a small noise could be heard. All noise and movement stopped. The hunters looked around. A couple of legs twitched.

"Fuck!" Dean yelled and started hacking head off the stunned mutant fur muffs. The others quickly followed. By the time the last head rolled, they were drenched in bunny blood and none too happy. Sam had also managed to get a real bleeder that shot blood up to his face when it got beheaded.

With no words exchanged, the brothers made quick work of dousing the bodies with oil and setting them on fire. And if they used a little more fuel than usual, well that was understandable. It was also understandable when they scrambled to contain the fire to the immediate burn area because they'd forgotten to clear the dry leaves.

"Never again Sammy – do you understand me? I will stab you in your sleep!" Dean turned and glared at Sam.

"Excuse me?" Sam asked. Christ his brother was such a drama queen.

"Never again play that fucking game – never. Shit like this wouldn't happen-"

"Wouldn't happen if I, the person who had information that helped us figure out where, why, and who, played a game that you didn't know I was still playing because you think I have 'addiction' problems. You. You drink enough to put down a bear, Dean. I really think you need to step back and reevaluate some stuff man." Sam snapped. Seriously, what the hell?

"You know what, fuck you. I haven't been drinking nearly as much. And if you hadn't-"

"No," Sam stopped his brother. "If you want to go there, I suggest you rethink. Because big brother, I may have been a dumbass, but I learned from the best. So don't think for one more minute that I'm going to fall to my knees begging for some kind of forgiveness. We did the impossible and fucked both Heaven and Hell. Get it. WE. As in I did it too. So I earned that forgiveness a while back."

Sam knew the second the words left his mouth he may have overstepped a line. It had been rolling around in his head for a while. How to tell Dean he didn't feel guilty anymore – that he felt his actions had atoned for his sin. But during a fight to shut his brother up wasn't exactly the best timing.

"You know what Sammy – you're right. Nothing to forgive; you didn't walk away and-"

"I may need assistance," Cas spoke up. His hand was over his neck and a blossom of crimson stained the clothing under his hand.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

Thanks to Indigomyst00 for beta-ing!

**Research** -

Queen Penelope – seriously? If you don't know, you should ;)

Jackalope – So, my dad may have been cruel, but I was so sure we had Jackalopes and Snipes living in the woods behind our house. Ah, good times. BTW – I never caught either.

Wolpertinger – Bavarian folklore animal with a rabbit's body, horns, and wings – also wiki says it's a common WOW pet. And wiki never lies ;)

Encirclement – a real ilitary maneuver meant to isolate and surround the enemy

Reviews take a second and last a life time!


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

My longest chapter by over a thousand words - you can thank one super sweet review for it!

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

_"My father used to say, 'Don't raise your voice. Improve your argument'"_ – Archbishop Desmond Tutu

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

"Cas!" Sam watched as Dean sprinted over. He fumbled to remove Cas' hand from his neck and the stain started to spread faster. Sam's feet felt rooted to the ground. What the hell was going on with Cas? This wasn't the first time something strange had happened, and it was definitely getting more serious.

Sam finally unfroze and started ticking through his head everything from the wilderness first responder training he'd done when he was sixteen. When he reached the bleeding angel, Sam firmly pushed his brother to the side. He found two small punctures while running his fingers over Cas' neck and quickly applied direct pressure.

"Shirt?" Sam asked without looking up. Without a second thought, Dean pulled his old Division Bell shirt off and handed it over. Using the shirt, Sam wiped the blood away and then reapplied pressure with the fabric. Needing to see if there were any other wounds, Sam started to pull Cas' buttoned shirt off.

Dean caught on quickly and helped strip the angel from the waist up. No need to work on the pants – they were rags at this point anyway. Cas was in much the same shape as the brothers, except he shouldn't be. He should have been healing himself as quickly as he got hurt.

The smaller scratches started to fade slowly; the remaining bites might have been closing a little, but it was the bite at the angel's neck causing the most concern. A silent and tension filled few minutes later, Cas laid his hands on Sam's and pulled the younger man away.

"Thank you," the angel said, his voice rougher than usual. Using the shirt to wipe the remaining blood away, Sam saw something that added to his already mounting concern.

"Cas – You're neck still isn't quiet healed. What's going on?" Sam knew this wasn't good. Crap.

"I am not sure. I have been able to fix the arterial damage, but the rest seems to be going much slower than I would like," Cas replied unsteadily.

"Fucking wolbunnyholes," Dean grunted not making a bit of sense, and took a look at his bloody shirt before tossing it to the ground. He knew a lost cause when he saw one.

"So, what happened with the angel light?" Sam asked. "It's never… um… missed? Has it?"

"No, I have never heard of a creature, save Leviathans, that could withstand the full force of an angel's Grace," Cas replied while looking at the mildly irritated.

"So, were the Jackalopes immune to angel mojo?" Dean asked gruffly.

"If they were, Heaven would not be pleased," was all Cas said.

"I don't think the Wolpertinger were immune," Sam put out there. "Cas – I think something's wrong. You didn't heal either. Or at least, you didn't heal like you usually do."

The statement sat there hanging heavily in the silence that followed. Cas seemed to be thinking, and Dean stood there glaring at Sam clinching his fists.

"Excuse me? Cas just saved our asses you think something is wrong with him? What the fuck man?" Dean's face screwed up with anger as moved his body into position for a confrontation.

"Dean, calm down. I just said something might be wrong with him. He seems to be off a little – don't you think?" Sam said, still looking at the angel. Had he been paying attention, Sam may have been able to defuse the Dean shaped shit storm before it broke.

"No, I don't think he is off a little. He's fine; you shouldn't have even asked him to do that crap. If he hadn't had to save your little princess pussy he would have been able to heal," Dean yelled. His face flushed as he strained to contain his anger.

"Dude, seriously? You get that this is why we bring him right?" Sam finally looked up. Damn it – why couldn't Dean just say he was scared? Why did it have to come to this every single time something happened that Dean's macho anti-emotion ego couldn't process?

"Shut the fuck up!" Dean was clearly spiraling out of control.

"Calm down man. Cas came with us as back up. We needed back up, and he helped," Sam said like he was explaining bedtime to a three year old.

"We did _not_ need him – we were killing those fuckers," Dean started pacing, which as far as Sam was concerned meant the danger had past. It was a pattern he'd seen since he could remember. Something happens that makes Dean feel scared or overwhelmed or whatever, he gets angry. He gets loud and confrontational. Then, it's a coin toss as to him attacking physically or pacing. Pacing was good, because getting sucker punched by his big brother hurt like hell.

"Are you serious? They were eating us alive – literally. This isn't –"

"Have you lost your God damned mind Sammy? Cas was bleeding out! He could have healed if you hadn't been so worried about breaking a nail," Crap – Dean had stopped pacing. Sam stood up quickly and held his hands in front of himself. He really didn't want to fight right now. He was covered in blood and guts and a million scratches and bites.

"Listen to yourself. CAS ALMOST BLED OUT. How in the hell could that even happen?" Sam raised his voice hoping to get through. Dean was starting to circle him. Damn it – that man needed serious counseling about his PTSD.

"Fuck you – he could have healed if you –"

"It's not my fault he's falling Dean," Sam interrupted. There. He'd put it out there. The big white elephant in the room had just been acknowledged.

"What the hell?" Dean stepped in with a punch that Sam barely avoided. Why Dean thought fighting or sparring or whatever he called his anger management had to involve Sam was a mystery. Drink or fight. Damn, it would be awesome when his brother and Cas finally got their shit together and Dean could pick between drink, fight, or fuck. Knowing his brother, fucking would win every time and Sam wouldn't have to deal with anymore temper tantrums.

"Sam is referring to the possibility I may be falling from Grace. My powers are weakened. It has not been a large drop until now. It is mildly concerning," Cas said. Mildly concerning meant anything from really serious to possibly fatal to anybody else.

"Why would that happen?" Sam asked, not taking his eyes off his brother. Dean seemed to have pulled himself back under that scary blank face – you just never knew exactly what was going on behind it.

"Let's just get him home and cleaned up before we try to figure out shit about how mojo works," Dean grunted as he stalked away. At least his anger had dissipated.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

The car ride home was tense. Dean hated the way Sam kept checking Cas' throat and making that annoying little humming sound that could have meant, "Sweet, all better," or "Oh, Dear - I see you've died."

Dean pulled on his seatbelt. It felt weird to have it touch bare skin – Fuck! He loved that old Division Bell shirt. One of the best concerts ever with the massive disco ball in the middle of the field. And crap – he could still feel the heat from the pyrotechnics. The pigs with headlights inflating on the towers – shit. That was the best shirt.

Of course, he would give up anything to help Cas. It wasn't a matter of not wanting to help – God Damn it! It wasn't the shirt – it was… what if Sammy was right? What if Cas was falling? It would be his fault. None of this shit started to happen until he and Cas had started to get involved.

Pulling up to the house, they all trudged in.

"Shower, food, then we can sit around and paint our nails while Sammy pretends to be Oprah," Dean snarked.

"What the hell crawled up his ass?" Bobby snorted as Dean flipped them all off while walking down the hall without turning around.

"Cas? You want to fill Bobby in?" Dean heard Sam ask before closing the door to the bathroom. There better be some Jack left. No way could he face Girltopia with Samantha without a little fortification.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

Bobby looked at his boys. Fucked up sixteen different ways, but still good in their hearts. Sam had cleaned up, Cas was sitting in clothing that went from ripped and bloodied to clean and freshly pressed. Coffee was on the table; knowing what Dean would ask for, Sam had already put a shot glass and a bottle on as well.

God, Bobby missed whiskey. If you'd asked him what would bother him most about being a spirit years ago, he would have said a restless soul, or missing family. Some shit like that anyway. Turns out, he had his family here, he wasn't restless, and he really missed the burn of a good whiskey. Life was strange sometimes the way it worked out. Or rather death was strange.

As they got settled, Dean joined them and without a word poured and emptied his first shot.

"Okay princess, let's share our feelings and get this over with before your period starts," Dean smirked at Sam's bitchface.

These idjits. Ha! Idjit had been the name John demanded he use instead of asshat. The first time Dean repeated that word, John about killed Bobby. "Daddy, stop being an asshat and get Sam some cereal, please sir." Good times.

Yes, Sam had his bitchfaces, but Dean was a scared little girl himself if you talked about anything other than cars, killing, or fucking. Not that there was much need to talk about anything else, but at least Bobby was able to.

"Seems to me you're the one PMSing Dean," Bobby grunted as Dean pulled out his own bitchface. Served the boy right. Emotionally constipated asshat.

"So, Cas," Sam broke the silence by pulling a notebook closer and grabbing his pen. Always taking notes. Like he was studying for a huge final and needed to make sure every single word that was uttered had been noted just in case he needed to know it later.

"Ah, I've been looking for a couple of weeks about angel powers and honestly, not much out there man. So, any ideas?" Sam tapped his pen in time to his twitching leg. Boy was nervous. Bobby should probably have a talk with him about hiding his tells again.

"Explaining the process would be too complex," Cas started and paused to think. "To simplify, the Host are all connected. The power flows through that connection from what amounts to a large central bowl. When the power of an angel fades, it's not that there is a lack of power; it's that his connection is weak or being cut off. A fallen angel has no connection as all."

"There is a usual variant on how much power an angel can pull through it – archangels have stronger links which amounts to more power. During a battle, connections can form between individual angels to channel power to those who need it. It is a complex network that really works on what humans would call subconscious level," Cas finished. Dear Lord in Heaven, that angel was boring as hell when he got to lecturing. Interesting stuff, but would it kill him to fake a smile or something?

"So your power is fading. A kink in your connection maybe?" Sam asked, his pen moving quickly. Bobby always admired how Sam could slip so easily into academic mode. That boy deserved so much more out of life than this bull crap.

"Possible. But for it to fade so much as to only stun – that is problematic." Bobby thought that was the understatement of the damn year.

"Do you think your relationship Dean is the reason?" And here we go – Dean explodes, Sam returns fire, and all hell breaks loose. Like damn clockwork these two idjits.

"Shut the fuck up Sammy I swear to God –," Dean's face started turning red.

"Dean, seriously – this all started around the time you two started… dating? Whatever you guys are doing. If this were any other case we would look for what changed," Sam explained himself.

"Shit, I – Cas am I doing this to you?" Dean asked, his shoulders slumping. Well, that was new. Dean didn't usually take to heart anything Sam said when they started at each other. And that spoke louder than anything Dean could have said out loud.

"Absolutely not. You could do nothing to affect my Grace," Cas said looking directly at Dean.

"So, the next thing we do is look at other fallen angels and what happened there. History of the problem, right?" Dean asked standing up. He started pacing and Bobby swore he could hear the gears turning in that boy's head.

"Yeah, okay," Sam turned back to Cas. "Any information on that would be helpful…"

"Lucifer of course – Father would not speak much on the subject and the remaining archangels were so angry that their brother had taken an unrighteous path. It was not a pleasant time to be in Heaven, as oxymoronically as it sounds." Cas thought for a moment before continuing.

"We had a brother fall a few hundred years ago, but he loved a human and wanted to grow old with her. And Anna of course, but again, she did it willingly. There are others, but it's a bit of a taboo subject. If you ask what happened, my brothers view it as you wanting to know how far you can go before you fall – so nobody is willing to ask because they don't want to be seen as tainted." As Cas finished speaking, it occurred to Bobby that this was going to be a huge section of new lore he would get to add. A hunter might add a few tricks, maybe a new kill method, but rarely could you explain something so complex explained straight from the source.

"Well, that fucking sucks," Dean complained as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"So, we know of one confirmed case of an angel falling against his will. He sinned or loved wrong – is that correct?" Sam asked never looking up from his notebook, pen still moving a mile a minute.

"Yes. And I have never heard of an angel slowly losing his connection to the Host like this. When my Grace was cut off last time, I knew it had happened. Nothing came in, no recharging. I am slowly recharging right now. It is not the same."

"Any feather heads upstairs you can ask?" Bobby spoke up for the first time.

"The only ones alive who would know are Father and possibly Michael or Lucifer. For obvious reasons, I would prefer to not go that route," Cas looked uncomfortable.

"Agreed," Sam said as he looked over the notes. "I have a few ideas of where to start. I'm going to need a few hours to pull all the books and stuff – meet back here in the morning?"

"That sounds acceptable," Cas answered as Dean stood up.

"Don't wear yourselves out," Sam poked.

"How would we wear ourselves out?" Cas asked tilting his head in that confused way of his.

"Oh man –," Sam sniggered.

"If you have to ask, Dean's not doing it right boy," Bobby growled and then joined Sam. Damn, angel boy just set them up that time.

"Dean, maybe you could practice? They say practice makes perfect. Well, maybe not for you – but you could still try!" Sam's laugher peeled through the kitchen.

"Maybe he doesn't know what to practice?" Bobby chuckled.

"Shut up bitches!" Dean roared from the stairs.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

In the small bathroom, Dean had stripped them both and pulled Cas into the hot shower. Neither had spoken, but there was an intensity in the hunter that concerned Cas.

Dean ran his hands over the wet skin of his angel. His eyes glued to the progress as he inspected each square inch. The hot water beat down on Dean's shoulders and back, but he was far from relaxed.

"Dean, I am completely healed. There is no need-,"Cas began before Dean cut him off tersely.

"There is for me. I need to see you. I… I just need to, ok?"

"Of course," Cas acquiesced without further objection.

"Didn't like seeing you hurt," Dean grunted as his hands started at Cas' scalp. The rough fingers ran through Cas' wet hair feeling the intact skin. Next came Cas' face as Dean softly traced his fingertips over the plane of the angel's cheek, the curve of his chin. They caressed from his forehead down his nose, and over his ears.

A shiver ran down Cas' spine as Dean's hands moved to his neck. Kisses followed the hands, kissing across the long healed injury. Cas heard a hitch in Dean's breathing before his finally came back up.

"Cas, am I hurting you? Are you falling because of me? This?" Dean asked pointing between the two of them. The angel knew this was coming.

"No. This is not your doing at all," Cas said again closing his eyes as Dean's hands trailed over his chest. It was a strange mixture between intimate and clinical. Dean had been truly scared. Cas could give him this time to prove to himself all was well.

"I've never seen you like that," Dean muttered, his hands finished exploring the expanse of Cas' chest before turning him around and going over his shoulders and arms from the back.

"I am fine Dean," Cas tried to reassure his hunter.

"You – there was nothing we could do. I should have been faster or something," Dean continued, clearly not listening to anything. He lifted Cas arm up and examined the skin for any marks. Every freckle was cataloged.

"Can't come with us – Can't let you be hurt like that again," Dean spoke softly. Cas wasn't sure if he should say anything at this point. He was not even positive Dean knew he had spoken aloud.

Hands skimmed down Cas' bottom, and Dean kneeled down in the tub and turned Cas half way around. He examined first one leg, front and back. Turning Cas around again, Dean repeated the exercise.

When Cas was finally facing him again, Dean started to stand up.

"No," Cas said firmly. Dean looked up; his questioning expression turned to a grin.

"Are you trying to say you enjoyed that?" Cas rolled his eyes at his hunter's question.

"Yes. Now you need to give me a practical example of how you want me to give you a blow job," the angel explained matter of factly.

Dean just about choked on the water that was running over his head.

"Wha- Right now? We could get out and…" Dean stopped as Cas reached up and moved the shower head to point towards the wall. Water still sprayed them, but less directly. With his other hand, Cas wove his fingers through Dean's wet hair and pulled himself closer to his kneeling hunter.

"Now," Cas groaned. His cock ached it was so hard. After having those light green eyes scanning his body and all the touches over sensitive slick skin, Cas was in no way going to leave this shower without coming. One way or another.

"If you don't want to, I can practice by myself again," Cas offered as he grabbed his dick and started pumping without another word.

"I've never done it before – it might not be great…" Dean hedged.

"That's okay, I have never had one, so I will not know anything but you," Cas said, his words calculated to remind Dean this was yet another time he could claim a bit of innocence.

"Damn it, Cas," Dean groaned and leaned forward. Cas may not have ever had this done, but he'd watched humanity and studied the pizza guy porn. He knew what was coming, but nothing could have prepared him for the scorching feel of Dean's tongue. There had never been anything like that. Hands didn't come close.

"Shit," Cas swore and then gasped when he realized what he had said. Dean grinned and swirled his tongue around the crown and swiped a drop of come from the slit.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

"Dean, please! Too much – don't stop," Cas babbled and trembled beneath Dean's hands.

Dean, for his part, went all out. What he enjoyed, he tried his best to do to Cas. It was awesome to hear his angel fall apart like this. His own dick started to get hard, which surprised him somewhat. Few women seemed to really get super turned on by giving head, but it appeared Dean's dick thought it was awesome.

"Go, I need…," Cas broke off on a gasp as Dean ran his tongue down the side of Cas' cock.

"Need what baby?" Dean asked. Fuck - the sound of his angel's voice all wrecked and wrung out turned him on.

"I need to grab your head and thrust myself into your mouth repeatedly. Hard." Cas growled. Dean whimpered. Cas wanted to fuck his face, and damn if Dean didn't think that sounded like a fine idea.

"Do it Cas," Dean said before he could change his mind. How the hell was this going to work?

Cas didn't give him much time to think about it before two hands with long tapered fingers dug into his hair and held his head in place as Cas positioned his dick on Dean's lips.

"Open," Cas growled. Dean complied; It was strange – feeling a man's dick in his mouth. No, not just a man. Cas. Cas' cock was in his mouth, and the fucking the sounds Cas was making were better than anything Dean had ever heard.

Would Sam and Bobby be able to hear? Shit – screw them and back on task. Dean reached around and grabbed Cas' ass cheeks and started pulling him in a rhythm that allowed Dean to both breathe and relax his jaw.

"Dean," Cas keened. The lights started flickering. Fuck Bobby – it was practically a challenge to wear Cas out – and that was exactly what he was going to do, little ears and precious princesses be damned.

Dean stopped Cas' hips and started moving his head instead, each time he went a little further down until he felt like any more and it would gag him. Practice would be needed for that part. Lifting his head up, Dean cupped Cas' balls.

"Do you like this baby?" Dean asked, kissing the head of Cas' dick as moans filled the bathroom.

"Yes," Cas hissed, trying to keep his hips from fucking into Dean's mouth.

"What about this?" Dean's teeth teased the sensitive flesh before Dean lowered his mouth down again. This time, instead of coming up, he created suction and just pulled.

"Dean!" Cas yelled, hands pulling on Dean's hair. "I need to thrust into your mouth _right now_!" and with no further warning, that is exactly what Cas did. He grabbed Dean's head and started thrusting into Dean's mouth guilelessly.

Dean was able to control the depth by putting his hand on the base of Cas' cock, jacking him off as he sucked and tongued the hard shaft in his mouth. And God damn it the sounds Cas was making. Dean started pumping into his own hand.

Cas was moaning like a porn soundtrack. Between that and his hand, Dean let out a deep moaned while Cas was buried deep in his mouth.

"Yes, again," came the command from his angel. It made Dean shiver, his angel could be so freaking authoritative and unyielding, and yet… Here was Dean, bringing that badass such pleasure he was trembling.

Dean complied. He took a deep breath and moaned again. This time, he made sure to pitch it low so the sound would vibrate through his mouth and into Cas' cock. He knew the exact moment Cas was on edge; Cas started keening and rolling his hips. Dean gave one last powerful suck and Cas was tumbling over.

"YES! Dean!" the last letter of his name was drawn into a loud groan. The bathroom light popped, and they were in the dark. The only sounds were wet skin moving on wet skin and heavy pants as Cas pumped his release into Dean's mouth. That in turn triggered Dean's own release, which was quickly washed away.

As they both came down from the post orgasmic high, several things started to register. One, the water was no longer hot. Perhaps tepid at best. Dean reached over and shut it off as he stood up groaning. Shit - as amazing as it was to receive a blowjob in the shower, it really sucked to give one. His knees hurt.

Also, the lights were out in more than just the bathroom. Judging by the sounds Sam was making in the hall looking for light bulbs, he wasn't too pleased. Dean could admit he felt a little smug about that. That's right bitches – tell me I should practice and I'll fucking make you sit in the dark with how awesome my angel thinks sex with me is… Wow, that didn't really roll off the tongue. He'd work on it.

"Jerk – next time, go somewhere else. Jesus Dean – what the hell is wrong with you?" Sam yelled through the door.

"You're the one who said I couldn't wear him out!" Dean yelled back with a smirk. Fuck yeah he wore him out. His arms were currently holding a six foot something pile of delicious angel.

"I did wear you out, right?" Dean asked quietly. Yeah, ok. So it was fishing a little. It was also his first blow job.

"If by 'wore out', you mean sexually satisfy me – then yes. You wore me out most pleasantly. I would very much enjoy wearing you out now," Cas said started to bend down.

"Ah, yeah – we can do that in the morning, ok?" Dean tried to deflect a little. If he'd known he would get a blow job he wouldn't have jacked off. Damn it. He stepped out of the shower, and they both toweled off in the dark.

"Ah, you achieved release," Cas said into the dark room. Thank God it was dark; Dean was pretty sure he might be a little flushed. Not blushing of course, because fuck no. Manly men didn't blush. He opened the door, and they started towards Dean's room.

"Very well. I will sexually satisfy you in the morning." Cas said behind him as the hall light came on with Sam standing on a stool right in front of them.

"Damn it – shut the hell up man – I so did not need the visual!" Sam cried while squeezing his eyes shut. "I don't need to hear anything either!"

"Would you like to be blind and deaf?" Cas asked. Dean looked back and he could swear that for a second he saw the smallest of a smirk cross his angel's lips.

"What? God – NO! Just… Be aware other people live here. You don't need to bring the house down."

"If you didn't want us to 'bring the house down'," what the hell was it with air quotes and Cas – Dean really wanted to smack whoever taught him that!

"- then you shouldn't have suggested he practice." Yep. That was most definitely a smirk.

"Oh God," Sam started shaking his head.

"Bitch," Dean muttered with a grin.

"Jerk," Sam replied and slammed his door. Good times.

"You know," Cas began as they searched for clothes in Dean's room, "I've never been kissed in the shower either…"

Yep – practice would so totally be happening from now on.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

AN –

Wilderness First Responder is an actual 80 hour training program that teaches how to respond to situations when you don't have an ambulance or hospital around. Seriously useful.

PTSD – post traumatic stress disorder: it's a little scary how well some of this fits with Dean's character at times. Anybody else notice that in the show?

Pink Floyd Division Bell – May 3, 1994. 13th row center stage. Seemed to me Dean would have enjoyed the hell out of that concert; I know I did! Dean would have been 15 at the time – I was 19 =) See, I'm not a cougar!

Girltopia – A magical utopia untouched by men. There is no sex, drinking, or drugs. When faced with questions, they ask, "What would Jesus do?" They enjoy good wholesome fun and always listen to their adult figures. - Indigomyst00 provided that little bit of fluff!

**Thanks to Indigomyst00 – she's my favorite Beta ever**

Also, MissMarie27 – I am humbled by your words. Seriously, thank you!


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

_Acedia – _Latin for Sloth: spiritual or emotional apathy, neglecting what God has spoken and being physically and emotionally inactive.

"_For Satan fines mischief still for idle hands to do."_

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

Cas really needed to leave. He had been avoiding his duty in Heaven. Orders had been neglected. Never had Castiel allowed himself to fall behind in his duty as Angel of the Lord. But lately…

Some days it just didn't even seem like it was worth it to get out of bed. Cas had heard humans say that, but until this morning, laying in a bed was soft, Dean asleep on his chest, and the light filtering through the blinds was muted by heavy clouds, he had never understood. There were always things to do, wrongs to right, and people to save; But just this one morning, Cas wanted to stay in this private cocoon of peace. Of course, he needed to leave in a few minutes.

Because, peaceful or not, Castiel really had obligations to carry out. He had delayed a meeting with the new garrison leader for months now; it wasn't a huge matter, but he still had a task to complete. A duty to Heaven and his remaining brothers.

And of course Joshua, with his meetings and reports, requested he make an appearance. Those Lego's were really starting to drive the annoying angel crazy. Cas had made a point to show up once a day for a brief second to add another Lego to the ever growing pile. Yesterday a note had been propped up next to the pile of colorful plastic. 'What is the meaning of this?' was written in perfect square copperplate. 'Define "this".' Cas had written his reply. He couldn't wait to see what Joshua left as an answer this morning.

While he was in Heaven, it would be a good idea to ask around about where some of the older pagan Gods might be found. Nothing too forthright, just a subtle question or two. It might help him with this angelic power issue. There might be some stories or lore they would know that could help shed some light.

That was another thing requiring his attention. He should have been up all night while Dean slept researching what books they had in the house. There was most likely little to help, but it was neglectful of him to not do his part.

He could also make himself useful by popping out to get some breakfast for everybody. Help them get a head start to the day – a day he knew Sam and Bobby would spend researching for him.

Dean sighed in his sleep, drawing Cas back to the bedroom. Contrary to what Dean would say about the matter, he was an aggressive cuddler in his sleep. The moment after falling asleep, the hunter had curled his body around Cas' and woven their legs together. Gentle puffs of air blew against the skin of his neck, and a heavy arm draped across his waist.

Cas was fairly sure the moment Dean woke up he would pretend he hadn't been all but laying on top of Cas, but for the moment it was enough that the hunter sought him out in his sleep. To be perfectly honest, the angel may have encouraged the cuddling a little by moving the blanket off them. There had never been a moment Cas was more grateful for not needing sleep. He had spent the night basking in the peaceful warm embrace of his hunter. His love. Dean. And as soon as Dean woke up, Cas would need to go back to Heaven, at least for a brief while.

Cas looked down at their torsos; the blanket had been pushed down to their waists. Cas knew his body was lean and strong. It was fit. But Dean's body would have inspired poetry in a bygone time. His pectoral muscles were perfectly formed and firm with dusky pinkish brown nipples. His abs looked like sculpted perfection.

The freckles across Dean's broad shoulders held an unusual fascination for Cas. He had spent the night counting them. It seemed a trivial thing, but each freckle was unique in its own way and therefore important. He had also spent the night tracing Dean's left arm, now cleared of his mark. The hand print that had served as proof of Dean's journey from Hell had been removed when Cas healed Dean after Stull. Before leaving for the chaos that Heaven became after the apocalypse failed to happen.

It seemed at the time like the easiest way to let Dean live a normal life. He could not, and would not, take his Grace from Dean, but the mark was easy enough to change. It wasn't really removed; They were there, traces scattered across Dean's back.

Dean was still marked, because he carried an angel's Grace he would never be without a sign of that divine presence, but he would not have to explain, lie, and remember every time his arm was bare. At the time, it seemed a small thing Cas could do for his hunter.

And that was why Cas counted the freckles. He picked his Grace marked freckles out from the rest and connected them in his mind. They were the Enochian symbols that spelled out Cas. Yes, it was vain. But how vain could it truly be if no one ever saw them?

Cas gently laid his hand over the place where he had held on while pulling the hunter from Perdition. It had been so wrong the way he had eyed that hand print with such smug satisfaction when Dean was revived. Random harlots may have had his body, but Cas had his soul. Even if they foolishly didn't know what that print was, Cas did. He knew it was a brand that ran not just through skin and soul, but Heaven and Hell as well. A stupid whore's mouth would never be able to compare to the mark Cas had placed there. The brand.

When Cas had removed the mark – it was surprising how empty he had felt. Dean had gone to Lisa, and she claimed him. Maybe not his soul, because part of that was entangled with Cas Grace, but his body. No more proof Cas had been there and knew it more intimately than a lover.

"Why did you take it away?" Dean asked startling Cas from his melancholy thoughts.

"I did it for you; At the time it seemed the best thing to do," he explained. His head was yelling at him to put the mark back. To assert his rightful claim.

"I didn't ask you to," Dean groused.

"I know. Again, I thought it would make things easier for you. Less to explain." was all Cas said.

"It did in some ways, I guess. But I was still pissed. It's like a tattoo – You don't have to explain what it means – you just have to know yourself. It's your history," Dean said. He rubbed his hand first over the tattoo on his chest and then over the blank space on his arm.

"I took some of your history?" That was not something that had occurred to Cas, nor did it sit well. He felt enough had been taken from his hunter.

"Sorta'?" The slight wrinkle of Dean's nose told Cas this was about to be a 'click flick' moment and get cut off. Then Cas would need to leave, and he really wanted to stay here with Dean wrapped around him in this warm bed.

"Would you like me to move it back to its original place?" he offered quickly, giving himself no time to second guess his words.

"Huh?" was all Dean got out. His mouth opened and closed a few times before his eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about, move it to its original place? Dude, I don't have a hand print anywhere on my body!"

"I didn't remove the mark, I moved it. Nothing can take away the physical proof of what happened when I raised you, but it didn't have to be where it was," Cas explained. He really needed to go. He could feel the pull of Heaven tugging him to attend to his duties. But they could wait a little bit longer.

"So, you moved your hand print somewhere I can't see? That's fucking disturbing man!" Dean said with his brow raised in cautious amusement.

"I moved it to your back and shoulders. You have several more freckles than you did a few years ago,"

"But not a hand print? What do they look like now," he asked, trying to look over his shoulder.

"They look like a random collection of freckles. Like stars in the sky," Cas hedged. He knew Dean wouldn't be angry exactly about what he had done. He suddenly felt hot and odd in his chest. His skin was burning up.

"Cas, are you blushing?" Dean grinned.

"I do not – I… Maybe?" Cas felt helpless. Blushing was new.

"Why are you blushing?" Dean asked, his grin turning from amusing to feral in a heartbeat.

Without moving much, Dean slithered his body fully on top of Cas and straddled his hips.

"Tell me what you were thinking about that made you blush," Dean ran his fingers up and down the sides of Cas body. The spasms made his body twitch and laughter pour through his chest and out of his mouth.

"Ah, ticklish. I won't stop until you tell me Cas," he leaned down and whispered in Cas' hear. "And if you tell me, I'll do something else that will make you moan instead. Wanna' know what you were thinking that made your cheeks pink up so prettily."

Cas groaned and rolled his hips. Okay, he could go home after this. Just this one time.

"Tell me baby," Dean licked down Cas' neck with a little nip at the base.

"I put my name on your back," Cas gasped out.

"Wait, you did what?" Dean asked sitting up. "You put your name on my back? How? When?

"Stull. I didn't so much heal the mark, I moved it. And when I moved it, I put those freckles in a pattern. If you look closely and know Enochian, You can see my name." Cas was fairly sure his cheeks were getting burned from the inside out. Dean just sat on him, looking for all the world like a statue. No expression moved across his beautiful brow. Cas felt panic well up. It had been vain to do. And it was most likely stupid to admit to it. To endanger this … to put his love at risk.

Dean burst out with peel after peel of laughter. It was a soul cleansing sound. The kind that comes after too much darkness and lightens everything it touches. No way was Cas leaving this bed full of happy hunter to research books.

"You just couldn't let me go could you Cas?" Dean asked, his mouth now blossomed into a full smile. "Couldn't stand for me to walk around without your little flag planted on me, huh?"

"I did not plant any flags," Cas muttered as he shook his head. What could he say other than that? It was the truth that he had wanted to claim Dean.

"I want to see," Dean said and bent over the side of the bed and grabbed his phone. "Take a picture, ok?"

"Ah, of course," Cas said taking Dean's phone. "Do I call your camera?"

"Dude, camera is in the phone. Here," he took the phone from Cas and pushed on the screen a few times and suddenly a devious smirk appeared on his lips.

"Hey Cas, think about last night. Think about me kneeling in front of you. My mouth on your cock, sucking you down," Cas closed his eyes as his mouth fell open and felt the breath in his chest hitch. There was a small noise.

"Fuck baby," Dean whispered, still looking at his phone. "Open your eyes and think about me."

Cas did as he was told and the phone made another noise. "Dean, what-"

"Think about fucking me. Think about laying me down on his bed and pounding into my ass," Dean panted and Cas pushed himself up on his elbows. Did Dean even realize what he'd said? Did he seriously want Cas to picture the hunter laid out, head tossing, mouth open moaning his pleasure while Cas buried himself in Dean's body? There was nothing else in his mind right now but the thought of Dean screaming his name while Cas came deep in his tight body.

"Holy shit Cas," Dean flopped on to the bed next to his angel. "Look how damn hot you are."

Cas regretfully pushed thoughts of Dean's ass aside and looked at the phone. On the small screen was a photo of himself. His eyes were almost completely black with desire, his lips dark pink and shiny. His cheeks flushed, hair more messed up than usual. His uncovered chest was visible in the bottom of the screen and his brown nipples were raised.

The muted lighting made the white sheets on the bed almost glow behind him. Every single thing in that picture screamed desire. Pure undiluted want. Cas saw love there as well, but he was not sure if Dean saw it yet.

"Is that what you see?" Cas asked, his voice rougher than usual.

"Yeah," Dean managed to rasp out. "Yer' fuckin' hot baby."

Cas was saved from saying anything else as he was pulled on top of Dean for a bone melting kiss. Tongues twined as hands caressed and hips bucked.

There was no way any angelic work was getting done this morning. That was his last thought before Dean pulled his pants off and started working on Cas'.

"Wanna picture of us kissing," Dean said laying down next to Cas and holding the phone above their heads. Cas glanced at the phone before smiling and pressing his lips against Dean's.

The phone clicked, and Dean licked Cas' lips open. Their tongues met and more clicks could be heard.

"Let's see," Dean said as he sat up, pulling back and flipping the phone over. On the screen, slightly off center, were the two of them, lips touching and blending. The next showed Dean smiling into the kiss. The last one had their mouths open; tongues could just barely be made out.

"Scoot over a little," Dean grinned at Cas as he followed directions. Dean brought the phone up and aimed it at the angel's chest.

"Dean, what exactly are you doing?" Cas asked. He was fairly certain naked pictures and porn starring an Angel of the Lord, Solider of Heaven, Executive, and Rebel to both Heaven and Hell wouldn't go over well.

"Just a couple of pictures. Nothing too bad – Promise. Trust me?" Dean asked looking into Cas' eyes. At that moment Dean could have taken a picture of anything he wanted. Cas trusted him completely.

"Yes."

"Good!" Dean started snapping pictures. He moved the sheet across Cas' groin, snapping a picture of his hand gripping the quickly hardening flesh. He moved in and took a picture of Cas' belly button. His chest. His neck. In fact, several pictures seemed to feature Cas' neck.

"Roll over," Dean asked, his voice husky. Cas complied and felt the sheet moved down his hips until it barely covered his bottom. Click.

"Lift yourself up on your arms," Dean whispered. Click.

"Look over your shoulder at me," was the next rough request. Click.

"Holy fuck baby, you gotta see this," Cas was pulled into his hunters arms.

The first few pictures showed Dean's tan hand gripping something through the sheet. The only hint that it was Cas' cock was the trail of hair leading up to a belly button that showed above the sheet in the top corner.

The next few were of Cas belly button. The sheet had been pushed down, but no sign of his erection was seen. Again, just the trail of hair and his flat belly button. His chest was framed in the following couple of pictures, and then an unusually high number of his neck at all angles. Oh, there was one of the side of his face, eyes closed.

There were two pictures of the base of his spine, dimples shadowed before the rise of his cheeks. And then his bare back, arms crossed under his head, shoulder's bunched up.

The final few pictures of showed what looked like a story. From his bared lower back, up his back, his naked torso – Then he was lifting himself up, and finally looking over his shoulder. Even Cas could see the yearning on his face.

"I need a phone camera," Cas said. "It appears they are very useful."

"Yeah, super useful," Dean muttered as Cas rose into his knees.

The camera slipped from Dean's fingers as Cas pulled the hunter down to cover his body. The angel's lips crashed hard against the Righteous Man's mouth.

Cas had never seen himself look so wanton in those pictures Dean took, and the desire he saw reflected in Dean's eyes was too much. Cas picked up the phone and took a few pictures of his own.

Several more bulbs blew in the house that morning.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

"So, I have your name on my back, and nobody but you can see it?" Dean asked tracing random patterns on Cas' chest.

"An angel might see it, but you are correct for the most part," Cas nodded.

"That's some trippy shit man. Sorta' miss the hand print though," the hunter said on a chuckle.

"Do you want me to return it?" the angel offered.

Dean paused. Did he? Not really. The questions really had been annoying, no matter how pleased he'd been with seeing the mark in the mirror and running his hands over it when he was upset to remind himself somebody out there willing went to hell to save him and thought he was worthy.

"Not exactly. Can you connect the dots though?"

"I do not understand," Cas titled his head. Fucking adorable.

"Can you move the freckles around until your name looks like a tattoo? Across my back between my shoulders?" Dean wanted to keep it where Cas had placed it.

"I can. Do you want me to?"

"I think -," Dean looked in Cas' blue eyes. Those eyes that he thought about at night when he needed comfort. When he had felt alone and defeated. Those long months when Dean was sure he would never see anything as pure as Cas' blue eyes again, his mind would picture the trench coated angel tilting his head to the side with big fucking blue eyes holding his arm and searing proof of his belief in Dean on his body.

"Yeah," Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat. Those eyes, his angel – it was solid proof he had good in him. That he could be healed and whole again. Loved even. "Please?"

Cas nodded and turned Dean around. Using his finger, he traced from one point to another, the lines not making any sense to Dean, but the almost painful heat that moved through his back told him this wasn't just an idle caress. Three separate marks, and Cas placed a soft kiss at the base of Dean's neck.

"Take a picture?" Dean whispered to the room. He set the camera up and handed the phone back to Cas. He heard several clicks and a few grumbles.

"I think I have one," and the phone was handed forward. Dean flipped through the gallery. There was Cas looking hot as fuck, one of the blankets, one of Cas' face looking constipated, one of Dean's hair, and finally one of Dean's back.

"Baby, that is amazing. I wish I could give you one too…,"the Righteous Man smiled looking at his new mark.

Cas wrapped his arms around Dean and smiled into his back before peppering the new mark with kisses and a little lick or two. Nothing too sensual, after all – he had promised himself he would leave when they'd finished.

"Damn it!" Dean shouted and jumped up out of bed. "We have to go. Like right now. Get dressed."

"Okay," Cas did as he was asked before questioning his hunter further. "What's going on?"

"You have to get a tattoo. Now."

"Ah, ok," Cas had never thought about having a tattoo. He wasn't even sure an angel could get tattooed and have it stay.

"Your mojo man – you lose your mojo and you can get possessed. You gotta' get marked like me and Sam," Dean ran his hands through his hair – clearly distressed. "You would be an awesome little toy for some sick fucking demon – like the best trophy ever, dude."

"I see," Cas said pulling his pants on as Dean bolted out of the room in his pajama bottoms. Looked like Heaven would be waiting until tomorrow. Maybe.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

Sam looked up at his half-dressed brother after a few moments. Dean was staring at him but not saying anything.

"I wrote down light bulbs on the shopping list. If you two are going to keep that up, we might need to test out some LEDs or something," Sam pulled bitchface #26 – _You're so full of yourself, but I'm not really that pissed._

Dean just kept looking at him. Sam started to get uncomfortable. It was like when your parent just looked at you with _that_ look. You start cataloging every single thing you've done that could get you in trouble. Almost like shit was about to hit the fan; you really needed to have something ready to help clean up the mess.

"Creepy man. If you're going to stare at me like a silent psychopath, get dressed first. What do you want?" Sam hated being interrupted. He was seriously trying to help Cas, and Dean was freaking him out with the staring.

"Cas needs a tattoo. And he is getting one, end of story." Dean looked uncomfortable before adding, "Ok?"

"And you're telling me? Asking me? Do you need my permission?" Maybe Sam had overestimated the effect a real relationship would have on his brother. Because instead of making him happy and stable, he seemed to be happy and unbalanced.

Dean looked awkwardly around the room before settled his intense gaze on Sam. What the hell was running through his weird ass brothers head now?

"You need me to say it's okay for an Angel of the Lord to get a tattoo? Dude, I don't give a shit. Why the hell would I care?"

Dean pointed to his chest and stared in Sam's eyes.

"Oh. OH!" Sam nodded. It had been their thing since getting them all those years ago. Brother bonding. It tied them together as much as it protected them. And Dean knew that. Knew how much it meant to Sam that they shared this together.

"He can get a different one, or somewhere else, or whatever if you want," Dean said looking him directly in his eye. Dean would never let Sam say it out loud, but the fact that he even thought to ask meant more than the stupid tattoo ever could.

"Dude, unless you want Cas to replace me as a brother, and by the way – ew! if that's your plan - gross, we're good man," Sam said. Yeah, that had been exactly the right thing to say. All the tension left Dean's body and he smiled. It was the smile Sam remembered from their childhood. Back before the world was so cold and evil.

"Thanks man," Dean laid his hand briefly on Sam shoulder before turning to go put some clothes on. What the hell was on his back?

Dean was up the stairs before Sam could get the question out, but standing in the doorway was most likely the answer to that question. Sam raised his eyebrow.

"He asked for it," was all the angel said. Wow – must be an amazing story in there somewhere.

"Yeah," Sam paused. Some things just weren't his business. "Look, just – I've never seen him this happy. Like – never in my life. You know?"

Cas smiled softly and nodded, "I understand. And I will not abuse the privilege again Sam."

Sam nodded and smiled back. Heart ache and pain aside, sometimes the hard road could lead to a really great place.

Cas titled his head to the side as his eyes unfocused. Sam had figured out ages ago that meant his heavenly radio was playing his tune. Usually it was followed by a terse 'I must leave', but this time he frowned and shook his head.

"Problem?" Sam asked.

"No, it's nothing. I just keep getting summoned for various things. It can wait," Cas replied. Now, Sam was a lot of things. He was smart, handy with a knife, really handsome, a great poker player, and an excellent reader of people. Cas was lying. Cas needed to be in Heaven, but he wasn't going to go.

Fuck.

It had been sitting in the back of his mind that the kinky side of Dean and Cas' relationship might be the reason for Cas' decline in powers, but if Cas was actively slacking at his Heavenly job in favor of getting a tattoo, then the roots seemed to be a little different.

Dean was not going to be happy.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

AN – As always, thank you to my super lovely beta **Indigomyst00!**

**So, who wants to see a couple of those photos now? ;) **

**Reviews, comments, thoughts always welcome.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

_industria_ – Latin for Diligence - Love, in the sense of an unlimited loving kindness towards all others, is held to be the ultimate perfection of the human spirit, because it is said to both glorify and reflect the nature of God

**S-S-S-S-S**

"God Damn it!" Bobby shouted. Sam looked over as a book flew by. It was concerning that Bobby was treating his precious books like a poltergeist. So far, more than two thirds of the books had been tossed into a pile on the floor. Of the ones that had survived so far, they got to sit in neat stacks on the table.

"Damn angel," the transparent old man cussed. Sam understood his anger.

"I know Bobby. We have to talk to him. No telling how long he's been doing this." There was also no telling how long Bobby was going to be in this foul mood. It crossed Sam's mind that every vengeful spirit started somewhere – maybe this was the thing that could push Bobby into that path.

"Damn straight – Castiel, angel of fucking my shit up, get your ass down here right now so I can kick it!" Bobby screamed at the ceiling.

"Wow – that was expressive, but I doubt he's going to respond to a ghost-"

"Balls boy! You call him so I can kill him," Sam blinked at Bobby's tone.

"Ah. Okay. Um, Cas – Wait. Dear Castiel, please come here. I need help with-," he didn't even get to finish.

"Hello Sam," Cas said from behind Bobby.

As long as Sam was alive he would always remember Bobby shrieking at the sudden voice behind him. Bobby was the ghost and he was afraid of an angel. Hey, we all get our kicks where we can, right?

"You feather brained asshat – you ruined my books!" If Bobby could have thwapped Cas on the back of the head right now, Cas would have a concussion. Well, actually Bobby would have broken his hand, but the thought was there.

"No, I didn't," the angel replied stoically.

"Yes, you did. You wrote shit all through them. I can't replace a lot of these you idjit! I can't believe you would write in my books," Bobby ranted, waving his hands at the mound of books, manuscripts and ancient tomes.

"I corrected them," Cas defended himself.

"You don't correct the word of John Winchester. When he says an Arachne is an ugly fucker, it's an ugly fucker! You don't get to draw a line through that and explain in the margin that it isn't a fucker because it doesn't have junk!"

"But, it cannot be one-," the angel began with his typical blank expression.

"Cas, Bobby's trying to say you overstepped boundaries," Sam interjected quickly.

"Don't speak for me boy. I may be dead, but I can still speak for myself!" God, Bobby had his own little bitchface going now. Fantastic. Dean should have to deal with this crap.

"Sorry Bobby," Sam tried to look contrite. Okay, Bobby was going to vent, and rage and Cas was going to add fuel to the fire until Bobby exploded into crazy ghost batshit action. Awesome.

"Bobby, I apologize if I upset you. I only thought the hunters would be able to make use of more accurate information. I filled out gaps and corrected errors. I also added in the back of every tome a sort of appendix with reference if further research is needed." Cas picked a book up and opened to the back page which had been blank. Now it was filled with small handwriting. A lot of handwriting.

"And in the desk is a notebook I started with various Enochian translations in both English and Latin," Cas waved towards the beat up desk Dean used. No wonder Sam hadn't found it. The thing wasn't even a real desk.

"Whoa, Cas," Sam whispered when Bobby failed to explode. In fact, Bobby's mouth had actually fallen open and was slack.

"There are also sets of sigils and variations that I made note of. I think some of them might be useful, but I have not tested them out. There is one for the protection against remote spell work that might work, but Dean didn't wish to help with my research. I remembered how uncomfortable you were with the effects of the laughing spell." Sam nodded. That Cas remembered was actually very sweet.

"I also started a journal to catalog the angels that remain in Heaven and what they are responsible for. If you are ever in need of help, it might be useful to pray to the correct angel." Cas looked at them for confirmation as he handed the journal over.

"Yeah – useful," Sam mumbled thumbing through the journal Cas had handed him. The handwriting was perfect and each name was followed with not only areas of protection, but general personality traits.

"I know Bobby is working on a tome of all the new things learned during the last year, but this is in addition. I have not duplicated any of his work," Bobby had the grace to look a little embarrassed.

"Bobby, you're ghost writing a book?" Sam grinned. Bobby writing was great – even greater now that they could poke at him for being a true ghost writer.

"Shut up," he groused.

"There is also in… this book," Cas said when he found the dusty volume in the pile of chaos, "various spells witches might use and how to counter them. Several called for ingredients you did not have."

"I know. We looked through it a couple of years ago, useless." Sam sighed. That book had stuff in it that would have helped so much over the years.

"On the contrary. It is perfectly correct in every way," Cas wrinkled his forehead.

"But useless without being able to lay hands on the stuff we need," Bobby snapped.

"I added to your stores. There are several feathers from myself and many of my brothers labeled in your pantry. Maricle also collected virgin blood from her vessel, and it is sealed in a saints receptacle. I was unable to collect any first cries from a newborn first male child of the Righteous Man, but further research may come up with a replacement. I'm working on it. Dean declined to help with that one as well." The angel sighed deeply.

"Cas, when did you do this?" Sam asked with bewilderment. And yeah, of course Dean 'declined' to knock somebody up for some baby cries. Sam would have paid money to have watched that conversation go down. Talk about entertainment.

"I started taking a book at a time with me to look through during meetings. I'm actually a little surprised it took this long for you to find my notes," Cas looked a little put out.

"Well, you took some of the books we don't use a lot," Bobby defended.

"What were you looking for now? I could help," the angel offered.

Sam and Bobby exchanged a look. The angel was going to find out at some point about their suspicions.

"I think I might have an idea about your declining powers," Sam hedged.

"What is your idea?" Cas asked looking interested.

"Might be related to sinning," Bobby spoke up from where he was thumbing through a book on the floor. He wasn't angry anymore, so he couldn't easily move them now.

"I'm an angel. I don't sin Sam," Cas mouth pinched with annoyance.

"Right, but if you did, would it affect you?" pressed the younger hunter.

"I am not able to answer that – but I have not broken any of the ten commandments. I know they were laid out for humans, but sinning is also a human trait. I have not stolen or murdered an innocent. There has been no adultery or disrespecting my Father." There was something off with the way Cas was standing. Maybe it was really bad manners to accuse an angel of sinning. But…

"Didn't you? You rebelled," Bobby voiced the very question Sam had just been thinking.

"Father told us all the first time he spoke that all had happened according to his divine plan and so nothing had been rebelled against, simply aligned with his will," Cas repeated like he had explained it many times over. He probably had.

"Sounds like a cop out," Bobby snarked as he flipped the page of a book on the floor in front of him.

"Regardless, Father deemed me to be a part of his plan and not a rebel. Others, of course, disagree. The point being, I am not sure…," Cas trailed off.

"You're both idiots," the old man muttered

"Huh?" Sam asked, rubbing his shoulder.

"More to the old school sinning than what you know. Keep looking." He grunted before flickering away. Sam was willing to bet he'd run out of energy for a good long while after that temper tantrum.

Cas seemed to think about that for a few moments. Sam wasn't sure what to make of the angel's behavior lately, but something was off.

As much as Dean was swimming in denial, Sam and Bobby had been spit balling possible causes. Witchcraft or hoodoo was on the list, but not very likely. If Gabriel was still kicking, this could have been his idea of a joke. Which had left sinning as an option. But if God had declared Cas free from rebelling…

Crap. Nothing was ever simple.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

Dean walked into the dingy motel room one town over from Bobby's place. It was like stepping back in time, even though it had only been less than a year since they had been on the road every day and night. Staying at Bobby's, putting down roots – hell, it might not be apple pie, but it was still pretty awesome.

After throwing the backpack on the bed, Dean started looking around for a plug. It was one thing to bring a laptop, but if you wanted to use it, the damn thing had to be plugged in. Sam had said it just needed a new battery, but screw that. What did he care if he couldn't sit in a Starbucks and write a novel while wearing skinny jeans and a PBR vintage tee shirt – it worked; it was fine.

He looked around. Okay, bathroom first. Yeah – he needed to drain the snake. And… double check the door. Yep, door was locked up tight. Chain in place. Oh, the curtains. Nope, no peeking gaps. So… His phone. Maybe the NSA would spy on him, and that shit wasn't cool. Dean popped the battery out of his phone. Let's see… cash for the room – he had another 3 and half hours. Time to learn about butt lovin'.

Crap. What did you search for? 'Butt Love' – yahoo answers about women hating it and pictures of anime. Yeah, not helpful. Dean cracked his neck. He was so uncomfortable right now.

In his mind, he knew what happened back in the day wasn't the trauma his mind turned it into. Just a couple of stupid kids not knowing what they were doing. It wasn't that bad even. The pain was gone in a couple of days, and the girl had been _very_ sorry. She had expressed how sorry she was in so many different ways. Dean still had some pictures of a few of those ways around somewhere.

Man up, this was just… just research. He didn't have to follow up. Cas wouldn't leave. Deep calming breaths. Go to a happy place. Fuck Sammy was an idiot. Who went to a happy place in their head?

Okay, Wiki. Wiki knows everything. Dean scanned the article. Huh. Not all gay couples have butt love. Sweet! And it turned out Sam and Jess weren't completely kinky ass bastards like Dean thought they might have been for doing it. Well, he may still be, but lots of hetero couples did it as well. Weird.

Hey – Web MD. A simple medical breakdown of anal – HOLY SHIT! Okay, Web MD could die in a fire. Note to self – no Web MD. Never. Next page. Why the hell were so many women concerned about anal sex – when did that become such a popular thing? Next page…

There was a promising one… A how to video? A how to video on learning how to have butt sex. Separate top and bottom how to videos. Dean clicked bottom and got one minute, ten seconds in before he clicked pause and started walking around the room sweating with anxiety.

A plan. Dean needed a plan. A new plan. The old plan was just "do research"; new plan was to "watch both videos in ten second bites so I don't hyperventilate". That was the new plan. Right. Wait, he needed water.

Dean grabbed his keys and opened the door forgetting the chain. The door didn't fully open, and Dean stubbed his foot. Fuck! He unslid the chain and calmly walked outside. The day was bright. Sam thought he was researching Cas' power deal, Bobby was, of course, at the house helping, and Cas had been told to stay far away and out of his head. Nobody was here.

Amazed how much better he felt, Dean just stood outside the room for a moment. Not really that thirsty. Surely he could go back in and just click play for a second or two. It could be like a challenge. How long could he watch without pussing out?

Dean walked back into the room making double sure to lock the door. He checked the chain and steeled himself. It was just a mouse click and a stupid how to video. He hadn't freaked out watching how to videos on plumbing when he fixed the drippy faucet last week. Fuck. This was nothing.

He clicked play. Calming thoughts… Okay – two minutes in. Wait, what the hell? Instructions on how to put a condom on? Who wouldn't how to put one on? Hehe Cas wouldn't. Dean wondered briefly if Cas had done any hands on research with how to put a condom on. That would have been awesome to watch. Wait, would he even need a condom? Dean was clean, Cas a virgin and an angel who could heal. Not like they could get pregnant. Wait, could… – no, that doesn't even make sense.

Sitting back, he watched the rest of the video. It wasn't as graphic as porn – it was apparently a serious how to guide. He clicked on the next one. How to top.

Twenty minutes later, he sat back from the laptop thoughtfully. Holy Crap. He and that girl had done everything possible to get it wrong. Everything. And there was no way Cas would make those mistakes. And now Dean knew a little more too. Not totally on board with the idea, but at least the need to go to a happy place had passed.

Clicking on one gay porn site had him slamming the laptop shut. Baby steps. And no fists.

Dean decided to try something not so hardcore. He knew porn came in different flavors. Flipping the laptop open he started another search. After several dead ends, he found one that wasn't too advanced. Just a lot of blowjobs and cut scenes to guys fucking. They really looked happy about it too – the ones on the bottom. And for several, that magic spot inside seemed to send them over the god damned edge.

That's it. Dean closed the laptop and walked over to the bed with his duffle. Opening it up, he grabbed a tube of lube that he hoped like hell would work as well for this as it did at other times and popped the cap open for later.

Quickly stripping down, Dean laid on the bed. Closing his eyes, he thought about Cas sitting on his lap, legs spread out, struggling to get a breath between the deep moans and begging Dean for more. The smell of his hair, the taste of his skin. The feel of Cas' lips under his, all soft and wet. Memories of Cas whispering in his ear, and unbuttoning his pants in that damn closet flickered in his mind. Holy shit, the Impala! His little innocent angel could be dirty as hell at times.

Dean started to palm his cock, tilting his hips ever so slightly while squeezing out some lube on the fingers of his other hand. Jesus, when Cas showed up in his room during the phone sex. That was sexist fucking thing ever.

Brushing the slick fingers over his hole, Dean shivered. That shit was cold. As he massaged, it started to warm up. His pressure was light; this wasn't going to be a rushed thing. In his mind, he drew a picture of Cas standing in front of him, coat already tossed on the floor, unbuttoning his white dress shirt. Those blue eyes raking over Dean's body.

A little more pressure as he thought about Cas shrugging out of that shirt and pulling the under shirt over his head. The way those toned stomach muscles would move, the pull of fabric as it exposed more of that smooth skin that Dean wanted to touch, lick, mark.

Pushing out with his muscles while pushing a slightly wiggling finger in, Dean managed to get the tip of his finger in his ass. Not painful, but not awesome either. He kept moving the finger around, just slightly in and out. He remembered the first time he fingered a virgin. God that had taken forever – she had been so nervous, and so had he honestly. That slow build up. He was pretty much doing the same thing now. Hell, his prostate could even be the G-spot; this was a fucking treasure hunt.

He went back to Cas, pants riding low on his hips, dick bulging at the zipper. His angel's wicked smile as he slid his hand under the belt and gripped himself tight. God, he wanted to make Cas scream his name. It still freaked him out sometimes how badly he wanted his angel. How, until The Kiss, he'd put every single long look, skipped heartbeat, and hitch in his breathing down as something else.

Finally, his finger was all the way in. Wiggling a little, Dean just didn't get it. The stuff he'd just read was all about how awesome the prostate felt when you touched it. Whatever – he hadn't really expected to enjoy this. He just wanted proof he could do it.

Taking a deep breath, he started massaging with his middle finger. So, two fingers and scissor. That was the deal. Then, maybe or maybe not to the whole sex thing at some point. No pressure.

Okay, that shit wasn't going to work. His finger just didn't even fit. So, think about it like he was fixing something. If it doesn't fit, you make it fit. Crap, no way he was going to use a fucking hammer to get his finger in. Next, lube was still all slick and plentiful, so more wouldn't help.

Dean felt stuck. He needed to get his second finger in – at this point it was a moral imperative that he be able to control his whole damn body. Wait, what about…

He slipped his finger out with a sigh and worked his thumb in.

"Hehehe!" Dean laughed out loud. He had his thumb literally in his ass! Crap, he'd never made himself giggle while masturbating before.

Serious face, dude. He pressed his thumb against the side and pressed outward until he felt his body give a little. Working his way all around, he finally felt comfortable to try again. This time, he lined the two fingers up side by side. It took a little work, but they did in fact fit. Not overly comfortable, but the burn was already fading fast.

Trying to relax, Dean started moving his fingers, trying to image how stretched he would be around Cas' dick. It was possible, but still, that whole prostate thing was as elusive as the damn G spot.

After searching for a few more minutes, he gave up. His cock was soft, but he didn't hurt. So, that was good, right? He washed his hands and sat on the side of the bed. Okay, his ass felt weird, but that really felt more like… squishy lube than anything else. Huh.

Well, that had been interesting. Maybe not interesting actually. It had been a thing. Yep. It was a thing.

Shower time.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

AN –

So, Dean wasn't impressed, but he managed to get his thumb out of his ass and try. Sorry, couldn't resist myself.

So, I thought Dean would be the type to want to try it alone. Thoughts?


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

_"I am good, but not an angel. I do sin, but I am not the devil. I am just a small girl in a big world trying to find someone to love." _– Marilyn Monroe

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

Dean couldn't wipe the grin off his face as he watched Cas play with the bubbles collecting on the side of his first Coke. When Dean had found out the angel had never tasted Coke – well, some things where just too easy to correct.

The waitress put their food down and asked if they needed anything else before leaving them to their breakfast. They were in a small little diner near Bobby's. Sam was really pissed about the light bulbs that they'd blown out again this morning. He had sent them to get more before they could even grab a bite to eat.

Dean looked over at Cas. He had actually ordered some eggs and was eating them. It was strangely out of character, but a lot of things Cas had been doing were a little off. Maybe Dean had seriously worn his angel out before letting him out of bed.

Fuck, he was awesome. Wearing an Angel of the Lord out between the sheets. This morning had seen the two of them naked, Cas on top, holding both their cocks with his smooth hand and jacking them off together. Dean had added his own hand and it had been the most intense orgasm. As soon as he felt Cas' dick twitch with the beginning of an orgasm, it set Dean off. Dean hadn't even thought he was that close. He'd become very good at keeping himself right on the edge.

On the edge. Something was bugging Dean. He hadn't hurt himself, but at the same time… Why did some guys seem to enjoy butt lovin' so much? It was just… awkward. Seriously. It was awesome that he hadn't been in pain and everything, but why even go there?

And if it _did_ feel that awesome for some guys, what the hell was wrong with him that he didn't get worked up over it? These thoughts had been swirling in his head for the past week; it was bugging the crap out of him. He needed to talk to somebody who had done it.

Princess Deanna in the house!

"Have you ever found your G-spot thing?" Dean asked in what he hoped was a casual way.

"I do not understand what you mean?" Cas had that stupid cute look of confusion on his face. It wasn't often any more than Dean lamented the lack of social skills his angel possessed, but right now it would have been awesome for Cas to be more clued in. "Men do not have 'G-spots' that I am aware of."

"Er… Okay, so have you tried anything with your butt?" Dean tried again trying to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks. That was more accurate.

"When I started to fall last time I once had to eliminate waste. It was very surprising and mildly disgusting. I'm not sure it is the most efficient design," Cas wrinkled his nose.

"Damn it, Cas – have you ever stuck anything up your ass?" Dean asked in a whisper as he looked to make sure nobody was close by. It was easier to talk about this crap when he was frustrated, but he still didn't need people listening.

"Oh, no. Do you think I should?"

"Fuck," Dean muttered.

"Ah, you are talking about a penis in my ass. No, I am still a virgin," Cas smiled reassuringly. And while Dean loved the thought of his angel still being all innocent and pure and golden light or whatever, right now it would be reassuring to actually talk to somebody would had actually had butt sex.

"Right. That's all I needed to know," Dean rolled his eyes.

"My research showed many ways to find the prostate which is supposed to be very pleasurable. I could try to find it myself if you would like," Cas offered.

"Right now?!" Dean looked around the diner wildly.

"Not at this moment of course," the angel shrugged as if to say this wasn't a big deal. "Possibly after breakfast."

"Yeah, you do that," Dean muttered before shoving a large bite of eggs in his mouth. The phone started to ring, and he answered right as Cas decided to drop the ass bomb.

"I would enjoy rectal play I think. I'm looking forward to it," the angel said guilelessly.

"Holy shit!" Sam yelled through the phone. "Dude, I can call you back. Just too much information."

"No, we're just eating," Dean sighed.

"Gross – you talk about that stuff while you're eating? How does that even…," Sam trailed off, probably realizing he didn't want an answer to that question.

"What's up Sam – why did you call?" Dean bit out.

"Oh, we have case. And – I need to talk to you tonight. Just the two of us, ok?"

"Yeah – that's fine. We can be at the house in fifteen minutes; that work for you?" Dean asked looking as his angel sniffed at some syrup. "Make that thirty."

"Sure – see ya'," Sam said before he signed off.

God – an angel boyfriend talking about finger fucking himself over breakfast at a diner, and a brother wanting to 'talk' tonight. When did this become a normal day in his life?

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

The case wasn't that far away, only a day's drive. The three of them got two hotel rooms. When Dean had said they didn't need two, Sam had looked between the two men and raised his eyebrow.

And so what if the thought of a night in a motel with his brother clear on the other end was actually pretty freaking sweet. Worst case? He and Cas could make out like horny teenagers after prom. Best case? Dean could get Cas to try out that blow job thing he'd promised.

As it turned out, Dean was not expecting to walk out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth to find his angel buck naked, spread out on a towel on the bed with his finger in his ass.

"Whoa – what the hell man?" Dean covered his eyes. Wait, he didn't need to cover his eyes. This wasn't Sammy – he was totally allowed to look at his very hot boyfriend/partner/boytoy/whatever whenever he wanted.

"I thought I would try to find my prostate, but it is proving to be elusive. I am not sure I can reach it, or if I even have one," Cas responded with a frown.

"Of course you have one. Um… I've heard they're really hard to find," Dean hedged. He wasn't sure why he was unwilling to let Cas know about his experiment a couple of days ago.

Cas sighed as he removed his fingers and sat up. Dean wasn't sure what the protocol was for when your significant-other/kept-man/angel-cake/babe failed to find their prostate. Was it a fruit basket? Did he need to offer condolences? Damn.

"Oh. I apologize Dean. I did not think about this making you so uncomfortable. That was thoughtless of me. I should have waited until I was alone. Given your history, this was very inappropriate," Cas grabbed his shirt and dragged it on.

"We could go out if you like," Cas offered while turning his pants right side out and untangling his boxers.

"Yeah. Wait." Cas stopped and looked up. Dean felt it like a punch to his gut. Cas was clearly freaked about the possibility of upsetting Dean. The thing was he wasn't really that freaked out.

"Just, lay back down," the hunter said with a nod of his head.

"Alright," Cas hesitated before laying half way down, balanced on his elbows. Dean positioned himself between Cas' legs. Dean licked his lips and took a deep bracing breath.

"You do not have to do this Dean. I said I would not pressure you; I did not mean-" Cas began.

"Just tell me if I hurt you, ok?" Dean interrupted. "And I also said I was going to work on this, right? So, just… Ya' know?"

Damn, Dean thought to himself. How many times had be thought Cas' eyes were creepy or too blue or piercing? How many times had he looked at that face and just wanted to understand what was going on in that head? Right now, those eyes were so clear and full of understanding and love. Cas didn't bother with wearing his heart on his sleeve, it was right there on his face.

"Of course," Cas said with a small smile as Dean put some lube on his fingers.

Dean smiled back and ran his hands up from Cas' knee to his upper thigh. With a feather light touch, Dean circled Cas' hole. He had already put one finger in with plenty of lube, so Dean had the hardest part done.

"I am ready," Cas said. "I read that going slow is best for the first time, so I went very slowly," the angel offered.

"Yeah," Dean mumbled back.

"It was not as easy as I thought it would be," Cas continued. "Once I got in, it did not hurt though."

"Yep," he responded. His angel needed to shut up. People didn't talk this much in bed. Very distracting.

"But your fingers seem larger than mine," Cas babbled. "I am not sure this will actually work."

"Cas?"

"Yes?"

"Be quiet? I'll stop the second you want me to, but I want to try," Dean asked. "That sound okay with you?"

Cas silently nodded his agreement; the hunter grunted a little before resuming his previous task.

Dean started with his thumb. That had worked well for him, so why not start with that. Slowly pressing in, Cas started to tense, but quickly forced his body to relax. It was less stressful doing this with Cas than his own experimentation had been.

After finally sliding in a second finger, Dean felt himself harden at the thought of that tight channel around his dick. There was so little give, it felt nothing like a woman. He wondered how long he would be able to last with so much pressure surrounding him.

Wait, don't get the cart before the horse. First he had to make sure Cas loved this. If there was no pleasure in it for his angel, then this won't even go further than tonight, right? So Dean pictured the diagrams in his head and started moving his finger around.

When Cas gasped and suddenly pumped his hips up, Dean grinned. Found it!

"Was that it?" Dean asked.

"I think so. From what I read it certainly felt like it. Do it again?" Cas asked with a tremor in his voice.

Moving his fingers in the exact same pattern failed to get a response. Okay, so Dean was still not sure exactly what he had done, but at least he knew it was possible. He could work with that. He actually liked working out puzzles and this was like the most erotic puzzle in the world.

Dean pulled his fingers almost completely out and put them side by side. He started pushing in very slowly while circling and stretching. As he moved further in, Cas gasped again grunted. Found it again. He pressed up towards Cas' belly button and grinned at the deep groan.

As he pressed on the bump over and over, massaging it, Cas' cock got harder until there were drops of come pearling on the rounded head. Dean took his free hand and unbuttoned his own jeans. His trapped dick was starting to hurt in the tight confines, his body was responding to the primal sounds coming out of Cas.

Damn, Cas looked like he was really getting off on this. Like this was the hottest thing ever. That had not been Dean's experience, but he couldn't deny that at no point had Cas touched himself, so it had to be this whole prostate thing.

Maybe he would try again when he was alone. Honestly, Dean was too much of a hedonist to not want something that would make him writhe in ecstasy. He quickened his pace. Maybe he could make Cas come from just this. Hell yeah he could.

"Dean, stop," Cas said with a loud groan while arching his back.

Dean pulled his fingers out fast and held his hands up like he was giving up to the police. FUCK! See, this was a bad idea. He'd hurt Cas. Why did guys ever want to do this? He thought it was going fine and without warning he'd probably ripped Cas all up and damaged him. Maybe Cas would be emotionally scarred like Dean had been. This just…

"I'm so sorry," Dean began. There was no way this whole sex thing could ever work. He knew they should have just stuck with jacking each other off.

"I just meant stop moving. I am close to ejaculating," Cas smiled.

"Seriously? I didn't even touch you," Dean asked. He had wanted Cas to come from just his fingers of course, but it seemed like a remote possibility at best that it could really work.

"I believe you having your fingers massage my prostate equals you touching me. Plus, you were touching it almost to the point of over whelming my senses. Maybe you could go a little slower? I enjoy it when we draw it out," Cas looked up at him earnestly.

So, not only was Cas ok with how Dean did it, he wanted more. Dean felt his cock strain at the fabric of his boxers. A damp patch was forming.

Cas was this weird mix of naive, pure virginity and open curious sexual hotness. God, that combo did really interesting things to Dean.

"You really think you could come from that alone?" Dean asked. God how hot would that be? Making his angel come without touching his dick. Hell yeah.

"Based on what just happened, I think it is likely," Cas said. "I read it was possible for some men, so yes. I believe I could."

Dean grinned and pressed a kiss to Cas knee before pressing his fingers back inside his angel. Moving his fingers slower and not pressing quite as hard, Dean started working Cas up to his peak.

"You like that baby?" Dean asked in a lust deepened voice.

"Yes," Cas hissed out before biting his lip and moaning deep in the back of his throat.

Dean leaned over his angel's body, covered with a light sheen of sweat, and kissed the moan from his mouth. He managed to lick Cas' tongue losing control of the kiss. Cas buried his hands in Dean's hair and started ravaging his mouth. The angel thrust his hips into the air like he was fucking an invisible lover.

"Wanna' hear you baby," Dean begged pulling himself off. The next press on Cas' nerve bundle and Dean was rewarded with a savage howl. Cas began mumbling something in another language; Dean didn't need words to know Castiel was turned on beyond anything he had ever seen in all his experience.

"So fucking hot the way your body moves," the hunter grunted as Cas' hips settled into a steady rhythm.

"You like this? My fingers in you?" Dean asked.

"Yes, so much – please," Cas begged, throwing his head back roughly. His hands clenched the sheets.

"Come on baby," Dean crooned.

A flush visibly spread over Cas' face and down his chest as his breathing became shallow. Once every few breathes, he would hold his breath for a moment as his hips jerked. Reaching up, Cas ran his hands through his hair before pulling a little.

Dean had just enough coherence to wonder if that was maybe a little kink for later. Dean knew he really enjoyed that himself – it had always seemed too rough to try on his perfect angel. Looked like he was at least a little kinky. Dean was so fucking lucky.

"Feel that?" he asked. Dean watched as Cas whimpered, and his balls actually drew up a little. His hard cock gave a warning pulse before come exploded out the tip. Cas' breathing was ragged as he pumped his hips onto Dean's fingers a few more times as the orgasm faded.

"Baby – so fucking beautiful," Dean murmured as he pulled his fingers out and wiped them off on the towel. Holy shit, all he could think about now was how Cas' ass would feel around his cock. How tight it would get when he was coming. That was something Dean was actually interested in maybe trying out now.

"That was very intense," said the master of understatement.

**S-S-S-S-S-S **

He wasn't sure what he thought would happen next, but getting pushed on his back and having his not so innocent virgin angel kneeling between his legs, ripping his pants off anf flinging them who knew where, with a hungry look wasn't at the top of his list. Not that he was complaining. Nope, not him.

With a small kitten like swipe of his tongue, Cas tasted the side of Dean's cock. It twitched in appreciation, and the angel's eyes gleamed with elation.

With little warning, Cas engulfed his dick in one swift move. It wasn't elegant, but fuck it felt amazing.

"There you go baby," Dean murmured, the stubble on Cas' cheek scraping along the inside of his thigh.

He was rewarded with a small swirl of tongue in that hot mouth. It was difficult to keep his hips from just going buck wild. It had been awhile since he'd gotten a blow job, but fuck – this had to be better than any before. More erotic, more intense, more powerful - More everything.

"Cas, wanted this so bad. Sucking my dick – FUCK!" he moaned as Cas' teeth moved experimentally over the head of his dick. Not enough to hurt, just enough to give the edge of pain. The little thrill that you get when you know you could be seriously screwed, but you're getting so much pleasure instead.

Dean looked down at the short dark haired head in his lap. Then Cas looked up. Holy Shit.

"No idea babe," he whispered, the breath all but knocked out of him. He had no idea how powerful seeing those eyes in this position would be.

Dean could see his dick, wet from Cas' mouth, slipping in and out of those red lips. The eyes that watched him forced his stomach into a flip and his balls to tighten. How many times had he been driving down the road and had a flash of how awesome it would be to have those eyes looking up at him while his cock was buried in that mouth.

Fuck. He reached down and grabbed either side of Cas' face and held him still – thrusting his hips slowly, in and out, Cas seemed to get the idea and quickly let Dean set the pace. His cheeks hollowed a bit, and Dean swore out loud.

"Fuck Cas – I – Damn. Fucking so hot baby," Dean picked up speed and thrust a little too deep causing Cas to choked for a moment.

"Shit, sorry," Dean slowed down, but the nervous tension in his body spoke to badly he wanted to pound his hips forward.

"Cas- ," Dean started as he pulled his hips back. Cas arched an eyebrow up as if to ask _where the fuck do you think you're going?_

"Gunna' come," he groaned.

Cas clutched Dean's ass with unyielding hands. The angel moved his head down as far as he could manage towards the base of Dean's cock. His tongue moved in pulsating waves as he turned his head leisurely from side to side.

"Fuck baby, you sure?" moaned looking down.

Looking up at him through those long dark lashes. Those fucking eyes – pupils blown wide open and that brilliant blue just begging for more.

"God, don't stop," Dean started thrusting his pelvis trying to keep from overwhelming his angel. Freaking Cas out by gagging him and choking on his come wouldn't be a great first experience and could mean no repeats. And holy crap how badly Dean wanted this to repeat.

"Damn Cas," his called out, his face blissed out as he finally found his release into the scorching heat of Cas' mouth. His cheeks hollowed out as he pulled the last of Dean's release down his throat.

"Ah, yes," he hisses between his teeth as starts to get overly sensitive.

There may have been more technically perfect blow jobs in the world, but this one was his favorite. Hands down. Getting blown by his angel was the fucking bomb.

S-S-S-S-S-S

AN – So, I forgot to put any plot in. Sorry. I know you're really upset ;) Plot comes in Chapter 19. At least some.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

_Well, I've heard there was a sacred chord that David played and it pleased the Lord, but you don't really care for music do ya'?_** – **Hallelujah

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

"Hey Dean – you got a minute?" Sam asked when he finally got a moment alone with his brother.

For all the years they'd been living in each other's pockets, if felt strange not being able to get Dean's full attention whenever he wanted it. Good of course, but strange. Dean deserved to be happy. Which sucked, because Sam had a feeling he was about to fuck it up.

"Sure Sammy – but if you ask about more light bulbs, I'm going to drop you, got it?" his brother grinned while flexing his fist in an old fashioned boxing stance.

"Sure, man – that'd be fun to watch you try," Sam taunted.

"Then bring them up, and bring it on, bitch!" Dean crooned and thumped his chest with a huge grin on his face. Damn – he was in such a good mood. This sucked.

"Look, it's kinda' serious and…," It would be easier to tell Dean his Baby had gotten a scratch than this. Anything really, anything but this.

"What's wrong Sammy?" Dean asked, his voice suddenly serious and low.

"Listen, Bobby and I have been researching for a while now – about Cas, ya' know?" Sam looked in his brothers eyes. Why the hell did it always come to this? One of them was finding a way to ruin the other's happiness. One of them dying or getting hurt or selling their soul. Or in this case, ripping love away.

"Yeah…," Dean's eyebrows drew together as the smile dropped off.

"We aren't sure of course, and Cas says we're wrong. And we could totally be wrong," he hedged.

"Just spit it out Sam," Dean said with a sigh. Yeah, Dean knew the score as well as Sam did. Happiness equaled shit happening to fuck it up. Always. There was probably some universal constant involved.

"I think Cas is falling, and I think it's because he is in love with you," Sam explained as plainly as he could. The least he could do was not beat around the bush and upset Dean more.

"He loves me?" Dean asked with a dopey grin trying to stay hidden. "He said that?"

"Lord Dean – no your boyfriend didn't say that, but he's doing everything but doddle your names on his folder in homeroom surrounded by hearts with 'Mrs. Dean Winchester' framed in curly cues," Sam rolled his eyes.

"Wow, and here I thought he just wanted me for my sexy body. My sexy body is driving Cas to fall?" Dean started out playful but ended with a serious question.

"Ew – but yeah. Maybe. It isn't that cut and dry though. He seems to be changing. Do you know he ignored a couple of Angel Radio calls?"

"Why would he do that?" Dean frowned. Yeah, Dean was getting it loud and clear now.

"No idea. And the other day he scoffed when I asked about how the new management in heaven was working out. God Dean. He scoffed when I asked about God," Sam threw his hands up in the air as if to say '_what the fuck'_ as his voice rose.

"So what're you saying Sammy?" the older brother asked with a sigh.

"Bobby and I aren't sure, but we think he's sinning and it's making him fall. We haven't worked out why or how exactly, but the time line fits."

Dean ran a hand over his face before motioning for Sam to continue. He wasn't taking this nearly as badly as he could have. That was good, right?

"First, he gets drunk, then he gets a hangover. Neither is normal for an angel. Then we have him getting hurt – it wasn't like those animals were a big deal either. They really shouldn't have been able to touch him," Sam said quickly, warming up to his theory.

"Yeah, but-"

"THEN he can't even wipe them out with his angel mojo. That's some serious shit Dean. That's like his reason for being a Heavenly Soldier," Sam gave Dean an earnest look. Please take this seriously, he seemed to beg.

"Hmm – he fell asleep last night," Dean added looking blankly at the wall, avoiding Sam's searching eyes.

"What? Cas? Are you sure?" Sam wrinkled his nose. Even when his mojo started to slip before, sleeping wasn't high on his to do list.

"Yeah – I woke up to pee, and he was asleep. I thought I had just worn him out with my amazing skills between the sheets-," Dean grinned.

"Shut up Dean, Seriously. Too much sharing," Sam made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat.

"Sharing is caring Sammy! I wore him out like an old race horse. Wasn't really shocked he couldn't keep up – not many can ya' know," Dean waggled his eyebrows.

"Okay. I'm going to pretend you didn't just say any of that. It didn't just happen. Now are you sure he was asleep?" God, his brother was the master of deflecting when he wanted to. And Dean knew his sex life was the best way to deflect Sam from stuff. Jerk.

"I woke him up. He was confused for a second, then very very happy. And I mean extremely excited. MASSIVELY excited," Dean leered at Sam. What an ass.

"We're done Dean," Sam said rolling his eyes. God his brother was such a jerk. Sam wasn't a prude, but it just wasn't something he wanted to think about. Nobody wants to think about their brother fucking. Jesus.

"Okay, settle your bonnet Samantha. Moving on," Dean started as Sam sat down. "Cas' power is clearly fading. He's not as strong. It started when we started – dating? Whatever the fuck we're doing."

"Going steady. You're going steady with an angel of the Lord and corrupting his mortal coil. Seriously kinky corruption if our light bulb supply is any indication," Sam got in his own little dig.

"Shut your pie-hole!" Dean snapped without much bite.

"You're the one with the whole angel fetish, not me," he teased.

"It's not a fetish, bitch – and so what if we're going steady? It makes Cas happy that we are, so fuck you very much – I'm Cas' big gay going steady boyfriend, and you can kiss my ass," he grumbled. Stupid little brothers.

"First, pull your big girl panties up, because I was just kidding. And second, Holy crap! You're in love Dean!" Sam felt his jaw drop open. He couldn't remember ever seeing his big brother so happy; that was true enough. But the look of… contentment? Whatever it was, it was completely new.

"Oh my God, Sammy seriously. Do you have to have an Oprah moment every single day? Is it like your new thing? Like when you were seven and had to wear your socks inside out every day for three months? Is it? Because-"

"Dean's in love with Cas… You love him; You want to kiss him; You want to marry him," Sam sang.

"Bitch," Dean shrugged while shaking his head.

"Jerk. But you do."

Dean open and closed his mouth a couple of times before shrugging. "Whatever, want a beer?"

Which Sam was willing to bet was as close as his big brother would ever come to saying he was in fact deeply in love and wanted little feathery babies. Well, maybe not the feathery part. But Dean would make an excellent father. He'd raised Sam as a kid himself and did a damn fine job.

"So long term, where do you see-," Sam asked, feeling a bubbling giddiness in his belly. Dean was finally in love and happy. His own apple pie life. And if his apple pie was fucked up with a male angel of the Lord and electrical surges with sex, hey – Dean never did anything half assed.

"Nope!" Dean barked.

"I was just," Sam continued.

"NOPE!" Dean yelled again.

"Dean, we need to-," he tried again.

"Sammy, if you don't shut your trap, so help me I will shave your head and eyebrows. Get me a beer and shut up. That's what we need to do. Unless you want a haircut," Dean raised his eyebrow with a silent question.

Sam got up and grabbed a couple of long necks. He wasn't stupid; Dean's haircuts sucked.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

"Stop scratching at it Cas," Dean knocked the angel's hand away from the healing tattoo and went back to reading the list of angel couples Cas had given him. It had seemed like a good idea to provide Dean and Sam with proof that angels were able to have carnal relations with humans and refrain from falling. So far all of Dean's comments centered around rather revolting speculation into his brother's sex lives.

"It itches. It is very uncomfortable," Cas grumbled loudly as he tried to bring his hands back up.

"I know," Dean sighed, swatting the hand away again. "You have to let it heal, dude. If you mess it up, we just have to have it touched up again later."

"That would be unpleasant," Cas frowned. Not only had the tattoo hurt, it kept bothering him. Yet another detail to file in the ever growing folder of problems he was ignoring.

"You like it though, right?" Dean asked leaning his head on Cas' shoulder, and putting the list down.

"Yes. It is very beautiful," Cas smiled. It was also touching the brothers had allowed him to have the same tattoo in the same place. The only reason he had agreed to get the tattoo was the fear in Dean's eyes. At some point, this whole declining power thing would come to a head. But for now, anything Cas could do to delay that bit of unpleasantness was welcome.

They fell into a comfortable silence for several minutes before the itching became too much and Cas found his hand trying to relieve the annoyance.

"We gotta' talk about this Cas," Dean sighed.

"I will try to stop. Maybe you should try and distract me. Like last time. I did not think about itching at all when you licked my-," Cas could feel the grin spread across his face.

"Right, but that's not what we need to talk about. You shouldn't even feel itchy," Dean really wasn't going to let this go.

"I thought itching was a common thing after a tattoo," the angel hedged. Looked like he was finally out of time. Dean could only be distracted with sexual stimulation for so long.

"Yeah, but you aren't common. You should have been able to just heal it up almost as soon as it happened. Come on, baby," Dean snuggled his face into the crook of Cas' shoulder.

"What Dean?" the angel sighed into air as he wrapped his arms tightly around Dean's shoulders.

"Tell me. Just tell me what's happening. I'm not going to be mad or whatever," Dean tried to reassure him. "I just worry about you."

And that was the moment Castiel knew. Dean Winchester, the Righteous Man, vessel of archangels, loved him. Dean loved the Angel of Thursday, little Castiel. Not the love of brothers or love between warriors who fought together and saved each other.

"I – I am not hurting Dean. I do not know exactly what is happening, but it is not painful," Cas explained.

"Go on," Dean said sitting up a little bit. They were still plastered together, but now their eyes could meet.

"I am not trying to hold anything back from you, but I truly do not know what is happening exactly. Sam says he thinks I am falling. I cannot find any evidence to the contrary, but I also have never heard of anything like this," Cas sighed.

"So you might be falling? Like falling from Grace down to Earth?" Dean may have been able to hide the edge of panic in his voice from a stranger, but not Cas.

"Would that be so bad Dean? Whatever is happening to me does not hurt. It is not even unpleasant. I feel more. I find more pleasure in your kisses, and I enjoy the same things you and Sam do now. I understand the human condition in a way I never thought to." Even as the words left his mouth, Cas knew they would not work to ease his hunters distress.

"But Cas, you _are_ an angel. This isn't like a vacation from Heaven. If you fall, you're cut off. Forever. That's a hell of a long time. And you would die. You could be killed – by fucking bunnies!" Dean really had a thing about rabbits since those Wolpertingers. It occurred to Cas that it might boarder a little on paranoia.

"I know, and I have been researching," Cas grinned when Dean snorted before leering.

"More research baby? I'm down with that," Dean crawled into Cas' lap and kissed him gentle on the forehead.

"I – was… Ah, I was researching martial arts. And about some of the firearms you have. I believe I could strip and reassemble most of your weapons."

"You could huh? I shouldn't find that as sexy as I obviously do," Dean muttered as he pressed his hardening cock into Cas hip.

"I will not be useless to you Dean. Even if I fell, which I still am not completely convinced is what is happening with me, I would be able to assist you," the angel promised. He would still protect his hunter the best he could at all times.

"I never thought you would be useless Cas," Dean said and leaned back.

"I just wonder. Is it us? This shit started when we did. Maybe we should just cool it off for a little bit and see if things improve, ya' know?" Dean's mouth asked about space, but his body leaned into Cas'. He knew if he said the word, Dean would, in fact, cool it off; that was heartwarming, though unnecessary.

"No. That is not acceptable," Cas shook his head, leaning his head forward to rest on his beloved.

"It makes sense Cas, and you know it," he felt the words rumble in Dean's chest.

"Regardless, I will not agree. This has nothing to do with you Dean," Cas spoke with complete conviction. The actions which may or may not have led to his possible falling were his and his alone. Dean was not responsible for them.

"At least agree to test your powers and we can keep a log of what happens around the time you notice another problem, ok?" Dean begged a little, which alerted Cas more than if it had been a simple question.

"That sounds… Very reasonable," Cas raised an eyebrow. In fact it sounded almost too reasonable for his hunter. "Sam?"

"Yeah, he suggested it. So – we test your limits now?"

"That sounds reasonable," Cas nodded as Dean stood up and offered his hand to help the angel up.

"I am still able to stand up by myself," Cas frowned.

"Right, I didn't…" Dean sighed. "That wasn't a test Cas. It was, like – it was a sign of friendship and affection."

Cas nodded. Some of the human gestures, especially the ones without any verbal context, still confused him.

"Look, I'll meet you in the living room. I'm gunna' grab Sammy – he'll want to help with this. Ok?" Dean all but bounced out of the room, so pleased with his maneuvering to get this concession.

"Of course," the angel nodded. This was a reasonable thing. And he hated it.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

Sam clicked on his laptop a few more times before looking up with a forced smile. Poor Sam – always taking on the weight of the world and feeling guilty because he couldn't shoulder more. Bobby had told John over and over that his youngest son needed to hear he wasn't to blame for anything that had happened to the Winchesters. John in his usual 'man up and shut up' way had just laughed it off as ridiculous that a child would even think such things.

"So, I thought we could start with flying," the younger hunter started.

"I can still fly Sam," Cas spoke without any heat, but also without any affection. Bobby could only imagine how embarrassing this was for the angel.

"Right, but now far? Has there been any decrease in your stamina or speed?" Sam pressed.

"I… I do not know. Not that I have noticed on my short flights to and from Heaven," Cas looked perplex.

"What type of trip would wear you out in the past?" the youngest Winchester was nothing if not persistent. It had served them well in the past, but in Bobby's gut he knew this wasn't the right way to deal with the still extremely powerful force sitting on his sofa.

"Hell," came the monotone answer.

"Think we can rule that one out," Bobby grumbled. Idjit smartass angel.

"How about this – Cas, you feel any differences in flying at all?" Sam approached from another angle, clearly not deterred.

"None that I have noticed," Cas replied in the same flat voice. The featherhead clearly didn't like being questioned like this. Tough titties angelcakes – life's hard, then you answer shitty questions.

"What about your Angel Radio – still loud and clear?" Dean asked.

"Yes. Though the Heavenly song seems quieter. Not gone, just turned down in volume I think you would say," Cas said looking at Dean for confirmation that was the correct term. How the hell would Dean know if that was right? He couldn't hear into the angel's head. Dumbass.

"Okay," Sam said as he finished typing in the laptop. "We know you got drunk and had a hangover when that's not normal. Correct?"

"Yes," the angel bit out. Lord have mercy, for all his book smarts, Sam was a dumb as a brick when it came to being subtle. Just straight up idiotic.

"And you can't mojo enough light to kill stuff, right?" Lord help them all. It would be a miracle if Sam's mouth didn't land him flat on his ass with a mouth full of broken teeth and feathers. Asshat.

Cas stood up and glared at Sam. Dean was quick to follow, but Bobby really wasn't sure if he was standing to protect Sam or back Cas up. And wasn't that a hoot. Sam wouldn't know what hit him!

"_YOU WILL CEASE YOUR QUESTIONS_," Cas' voice boomed through the room. Dust danced in the air as it fell from furniture; the walls seemed to vibrate for long moments afterwards.

"Appears you can still use Angelic commands," Bobby cackled as Sam glared at him. What? It wasn't like angels could do anything to a ghost. Right? Wait, could they?

"Cas, I'm worried about the light mojo thing. Can you, I don't know… test it somehow? It might've just been an off day, ya' know? And for that matter, we could test the healing thing as well," Dean interjected, trying to calm his lover boy down.

"How would you suggest I do that Dean? Are you offering to inflict bodily harm on Sam and see if I can heal him? Because I would be perfectly willing to risk not being able to heal him right now," Cas snarled at the younger brother.

"Well, fuck," Bobby said after the room was completely silent for a few strained moments. That was the most unnerving thing he'd ever heard Dean's angel say.

"Sam, I apologize. That was rude to say," Cas looked fairly contrite.

"Sorry you said it, but not sorry you felt it. It's cool. We all have bad days. I'm just going to leave this list with Dean, and the two of you can go over it. Let me know what you find out, yeah?" Sam asked his older brother without even glancing at the angel.

Bobby couldn't decide if that boy was angry or scared, but either way, dinner was going to be a bitch tonight. Wait, ha! Bobby didn't have to actually show up to dinner. The boys could figure that crap out between the two of them. Sometimes being dead was sweet.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

AN:

Hallelujah – written by Leonard Cohen in 1984, there are over 300 versions known and it's been called the greatest song ever. I tend to agree. (thanks for the details wiki)


	20. Chapter 20

**AN –** There is a notice on the main page of FF about email alerts. It looks like they may have changed some settings and tripped spam filters. They have directions on how to fix it – I know a couple of you didn't get notices about this story. I missed notices of stories and your awesome reviews!

**And back to your regularly scheduled chapter… **

**Chapter 20**

_The course of true love never ran smooth._ – the bard

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

"Dean, for the last time, I do not teleport. I fly. And we already covered this. My flying has not been affected," Cas sighed. This was annoying. Dean was reading off a list of questions from his disrespectful brother; all Cas mostly wanted to do involved kissing Dean's neck and breathing in his unique scent.

"Right. Teleporting fine. Are you hungry?" Dean rammed through the questions in a hurry. Cas was thankful his hunter was not trying to draw this out, but terminology was important.

"Not right now, but I have been feeling peckish," Cas sighed and started fiddling with a buckle on the cuff of the trench coat.

"Cool. Wait, peckish? Whatever - I saw you sleeping last night, so that's a yes," Dean made another note.

"No. I do not sleep," Cas corrected. What a foolish thought. He laid next to Dean and read or watched his hunter sleep. Sometimes he went to Heaven to work, but he did not sleep.

"Dude, you were asleep and drooling," Dean winked at him.

"I do not sleep, and if I did, I most certainly would not drool," Cas insisted.

"So, I'll say denies sleeping when confronted about clearly sleeping and drooling on my shoulder. That sound alright baby?" Dean grinned.

"Can we finish this up please?" Cas rolled his eyes. He didn't sleep. Dean was maybe asleep or something, but angels did not sleep. And he was still an angel. "Wait, I have a question."

"You aren't gunna' distract me, but hit me with your question," Dean tapped his pen on the pad of paper.

"Why do you call me babe and baby? I am neither one," Cas asked. Dean blinked.

"Ah, it's a pet name. Not like an actual pet, but… um – a nickname. A sign of affection. A term of endearment, ya' know?" Dean struggled.

"I understand. Should I come up with one for you as well?" Cas asked with complete seriousness.

"If you want to Cas. It's not required, okay?" the hunter tried to look reassuring.

"I understand. I think I would like to use one. I will think on it," Cas nodded to himself.

"You do that. So, getting back to it - can you still go invisible?" came the next question. Dean never listened; that much was clear.

"I don't go invisible Dean. We've been over this as well. I exist between dimensions. It is not true invisibility, because I am not even an entity to _be_ invisible," Cas sighed heavily. It really was not that hard. Did Dean even try to understand? Sometimes Castiel wondered.

"Right, so can you still not be an entity?" Dean just barreled through marking the paper with his chicken scratch.

Cas glared at him and shifted from one reality to the next. He watched Dean look around the garage bay. They had retired to the garage outside when Sam had started his 'bitchfest'. That may or may not have been Dean's term for it.

"So, yes. Invisible works," Dean nodded and checked off something.

"Dean," Cas warned, shifting back into this plain.

"I know, blahblahblah not invisible. Whatever. Next, Can I see your angel blade?"

"Really? Right here?" Cas asked with a completely blank face. Dean's cheeks flushed a little, and Cas could see the thought taking hold and growing. It was surprising how easily Cas learned about teasing Dean sexually when several other forms of humor still eluded him.

"I meant your real angel sword," he tried to keep the smirk off his face.

"Here," Cas said as he drew it from another realm. "See, all shiny. Can we please be done with this farce?"

"Go ahead and put it up big boy, only a few more questions. Can I see your wings?" Dean asked without looking up.

"No." Cas said. On reflection, the moment it left his mouth, Cas knew Dean would not be accommodating with this limit.

"What? Why not? I promise not to squeal like a fangirl. Come on, whip 'em out," Dean wiggled his eyebrows.

"Dean, why do you need to see them? I can fly, therefore they exist. That is really all you need to know about them. Did Sam really wish to see my wings?" Cas demanded, his agitation seeping through.

"No, I just wondered if I could see them. I didn't think it was a big deal…" Dean looked offended and hurt at the same time.

Cas sighed. So many things to deal with when communicating with humans. So confusing sometimes. Dean could demand Cas stand three feet away at all times, but Cas could not decline to show his wings. The worst part was the hunter would not even see the hypocrisy.

"They're a mess," Cas mumbled.

"Why? You need to shower or something? I could help ya' know," Dean grinned rubbing his hands together.

"NO!" Cas pressed his back against the wall. Dean's shocked look sent a spike of remorse coursing through the thread of Grace winding its' way through his soul. The sharpness almost took his breath away when his own Grace responded in sympathy.

"Dude, what's going on? What's up with all the wing aversion crap?" Dean's voice started to rise.

"Wings are personal Dean," the angel started.

"And we aren't personal enough? Damn it, my fingers were inside your ass. That's about as personal as it gets. Now you're saying just looking at your dirty wings is this huge invasion of privacy. I didn't even really ask to touch them dude. I offered to help clean them. Fuck Cas – I let you help me wash Baby last week. What the hell is wrong here?"

Cas sighed. How to explain? There really was no human equivalent. Nothing in Dean's experience could equip him to understand the ritual and meaning behind grooming and preening for a mate. And Dean was not his mate. That stung, but it was true. They shared pleasure, but it had not progressed beyond that.

"A neophyte angel's wings are groomed by siblings until they learn do it themselves. Then, a mate takes over. It is an act of an intense bond for an angel to share their wings."

"Right, like a profound bond or something," the hunter glared, and Cas couldn't blame him really. He wasn't doing this well.

"Dean…"

"I'm your boyfriend, Cas. It's not like I'm a fucking stranger," Dean said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yes, you are. But you are not my mate." Cas said knowing this would cause an argument, but at a complete loss for how to avoid it.

"I'm not your mate. So I'm good enough to get off, but not... er mate with? Is it because I can't have angel babies or whatever?" Dean's frown deepened. "I'm not going to say I haven't thought about it, but I can't say I wouldn't agree to getting pregnant either. I'm not totally ruling it out I guess is what I'm saying, but that's just fucked up."

"Dean Winchester, have you lost your mind? How would you get pregnant?" Cas asked wondering what he just missed in the conversation. Why was Dean suddenly suggesting he would be willing to become pregnant?

"Angel mojo? Couldn't you mojo me baby growing parts or some equally weird angelic way of baby growing?" Dean asked clearly not sure of his words as they came out. "That's about the stupidest thing I've ever said, isn't it?"

"Yes. It is. And knowing all the stupid things you have said and done in your eventful life, allowing something to claim the top spot is actually an accomplishment."

"Thanks?"

"Moving on?"

"Not yet. Cas, seriously – what's up with the mate thing? Are you up in Heaven checking out how big other angel's wings are at the cloud bar or whatever?"

"We do not have a cloud bar," Cas sighed deeply. "It's not sexual Dean. It's more like… partners. A mate's Grace sings in harmony with your own. You balance each other and complete the spiritual shell to make your faith solid. Grounded I guess you could say."

"Like marriage? Only with souls singing and less lace and big cakes?" Dean said with his own bitchface that Cas knew he would deny using.

"Not really, but it's as close as I can explain," Cas allowed.

"So I will never be your mate," Dean stated with a flat voice. Whoever thought his hunter was just one big ball of pent up anger had never taken a moment to look deeper. The Grace surrounding Dean's soul was flaring the hunter's disappointment and feeling of rejection. Cas felt breathless at how deeply Dean appeared to want to call Cas his mate. Wrapped under the hurt was a warmth; Cas suspected it might be the beginnings of love, but he knew better than to share that information. Dean hated to be reminded of Cas' advantage over him.

"I did not know you would be interested," the angel said softly. "If you would like, I can see if there is an angel to human connection we can complete. Though, you having a portion of my Grace makes us about as connected as I've ever heard. Almost as connected as mates."

"Damn, this is so fucked up," Dean rubbed the back of his neck before stepping back. "Yeah, look into it I guess. I mean, you've ruined me for all other's so I might as well get a celestial ring out of it, right?"

"I am not sure I know of any celestial rings," Cas hedged. "But I will see if we can be bonded together more if that is your wish."

Dean leaned forward and kissed Cas gently. "Yep."

"As you wish," the angel nodded.

"Alright buttercup, before we finish, I… Just, if you keep losing powers and crap – we gotta' stop man. I can't deal with feeling like I might be a part of that. You know?" his hunter looked so vulnerable. Cas wondered if he would ever be able to deny Dean anything ever again.

"I do not think you are a part of this, but if you feel that strongly about it, I will agree to your terms," Cas nodded his agreement.

Dean grinned and pulled up the paper and read the next item off, "Can you still hear prayers?"

"Oh. I have not heard any for a while, but you were the only one that prayed to me on a regular basis. Try and pray now," Cas closed his eyes to listen.

Dean leaned on the hood of Baby crossing his arms over his chest as he silently prayed:

_Dear Castiel, Angel with the hottest ass this side of Hell, Please hear me and answer my prayer for a blow job. Or any other sexual favor you can think of. Thank you – Dean, your sexy beast of a hunter and the source of all earthly pleasure known to you. Amen._

Cas opened his eyes and glanced at Dean.

"As you wish," was all he said before he launched himself on the hunter.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

Cas' body was plastered against Dean's. Without a thought, the hunter wrapped his arms tightly around his angel and kissed his open mouth. This was heaven. Cas, his car, family, and Cas' body pressed wantonly against his.

"Naked, now." Cas breathed into his mouth. That was another thing that totally shocked Dean. Cas was actually rather aggressive about the whole sexual side of their relationship. Dean was no slacker, but damn. At times, Cas even moved too fast for someone who had been around the block like Dean.

"Yeah," Dean agreed unbuttoning the angel's shirt. The one time he had tried to draw the kissing out, Cas had used his mojo to zap away their clothing, blinked them to a remote cabin somewhere, and somehow Dean wound up almost feeling a little used.

Damn it – his gay boyfriend was turning Dean into a real live girl. He was upset about not being a mate so he could braid his boyfriend's feathers, joked about getting a fucking ring, and they hadn't even had actual sex yet. Dean was like his own worst nightmare of a girlfriend. Well, Cas seemed okay with it.

Shirts fell, shoes got toed off, and jeans dropped to the dirt floor of the garage bay they were in. It was tucked in the back with no direct line of sight to the house. Since Sammy avoided the work area like the plague, and Bobby couldn't come out here, they might as well have been completely alone in the world.

"Yes," Cas hissed as their bodies slid together and cocks aligned.

Dean's hands came up and framed Cas' face. Rubbing his thumb over the stubble on the angel's cheek, Dean slid the other hand behind Cas' neck and pulled the angel in for a deep lingering kiss. Their mouths opened, breaths mingled together as their tongues danced.

Cas let a little growl out that Dean even felt where their chests were plastered together. Cas' fingers threaded through Dean's short hair before they ran down to caress the side of his face. It was such a tender touch; Dean realized that while they had always been touchy-feely they had at some point crossed over from hot new passion into this new world where the touches grew more measured, more caring. More… loving?

His breath caught in his throat as he slowly pulled back to look at the angel in his arms. Cas' eyes were bright and only a little glazed over. But swimming in the usually intense blue was something Dean hadn't noticed before. The devotion and faith had been strong and unwavering, but now… Now Dean saw not just passion. He thought it might have been love; honestly, he hadn't actually had another person look at him like that.

"More," begged the angel while reaching up to nip at Dean's jawline.

Dean gripped Cas' chin with one hand to hold his mouth still as he plundered. He ran his tongue along the tops of Cas' teeth, over the roof of his mouth, and flicked against puffy lips. The wet sounds of their kisses filled the air.

"You have no idea," Dean rasped as he struggled to take a deep breath, "just no idea what you do to me baby."

Kissing down the side of Cas' face, Dean started worrying the skin at the base of his beloveds neck. Using more force than he could with a human, Dean bit down and pulled the abused tissue into his mouth. Cas's hips lurched into Dean's as the angel started to unravel.

"Turn around baby," Dean demanded as he nuzzled into Cas' neck. The angel quickly flipped around so he was facing the Impala.

"God, wanted to see you spread out over Baby," Dean mumbled as he kicked Cas' feet apart slightly. Running his hands down the smooth expand of the angel's back, Dean watched the muscle's tense and release under his fingers.

Leaning over, Dean peppered the pale skin with small kisses. He licked his way down each bump in Cas' spine until he reached the man's tailbone.

"Tell me you want to feel me here Cas," Dean's voice sounded almost raw as he pleaded.

"Kiss me Dean. Now," Cas demanded with his deep voice. He pressed his hip back into the air towards Dean's face.

He moved his hands to either side of Cas' ass and gently pulled the cheeks apart. The hole was clean, and small, and sat there with a barely visible flutter.

God, Dean had never even thought about this. He'd read about it of course, and watched it in a few pornos, but this…

Flicking his tongue out, Dean started just below Cas' hole and licked upward. The taste wasn't foul, which had been his biggest fear, so Dean licked again, this time poking his tongue ever so slightly into the angel.

"Dean!" Cas yelled out at the sensation. Dean rolled his tongue around the entrance a few more times before pulling back to lick the length of Cas' crack again. The angel groaned and his hips lurched, trying to find contact again.

Dean leaned down again. Pulling either cheek as far apart as he could, Dean used the tip of his tongue to push in a bit before caressing the hole with his tongue. Cas started making the most obscene sounds; Dean pulled back and wiped his wet mouth off on his arm. Damn he wanted to wreck his boyfriend right now.

Dean clutched Cas' hips and pulled back until they press tightly against his groin. Pressing his rigid cock in the valley of Cas' ass cheeks, Dean let out a ragged moan of pleasure.

"Dean, you need to prepare me," Cas reminded him on a heavy breath, his hips circling with desperation, dipping to rub Dean's hardness against the quivering bundle of nerves surrounding Cas' hole.

"Don't have anything here, and we're not there yet anyway," Dean licked his hand and slicked his dick up before placing it back in the hot crevice.

"Just want to feel this," he whispered as he rained kisses across Cas' back. The angel arched up, as the hunter started rocking on his heels, driving his cock through the tunnel Cas' cheeks made as he pushed them together.

"Fuck baby, you like this?" Dean groaned, his head tilted down watching the head of his cock poke out and then disappear again. Groaning, Dean sprayed his hand flat on the firm muscles of his angel's back and slowly slid up until he could wrap his arm around Cas' shoulder.

Messy little kisses covered Cas' neck until he turned his head towards the hunter. Dean captured his mouth in a bruising kiss. Their bodies rocked together, sliding with the sweat that had gathered.

"Yes," Cas hissed out as he reached between his legs to seize his own hardness.

"Mine," Dean said as he knocked Cas' hand away and reached forward to take Cas with a free hand.

The increase of Dean's body weight forced Cas to lean further on the hood.

"That's right baby, lay on her. Make you come on her too," Dean was near incoherent in his pleasure; he stroked his angel with intense urgency.

The feel of hot skin moving over the solid heft of Cas' cock seemed to pour an overwhelming flood of arousal through Dean's system. As Dean tightened his grip, Cas started an incoherent stream of begging for harder and faster.

"Dean," Cas pleaded as thrust his ass back and leaned his chest full length on the warm smooth metal, canting his hips in a demanding rhythm as he reached his breaking point.

"Like a fucking dream, all messed up and moaning under me," Cas gasped as Dean's mouth kept up the running commentary of dirty thoughts.

"Wanna' wreck you baby. Hear you scream," the hunter's breath coming in short pants as he rocked into Cas.

"You feel that? Hard against your ass – want it don't ya'," Dean said as he moved the head of his cock against Cas' hole. "Want me to fuck you like this?"

"Stop teasing and do it," Cas begged. Dean growled as he felt his angel's body tightening for the release.

"Not going to last Dean," he finished on a broken cry.

"Come on baby, make her filthy," Dean used his free hand to press his fingers into Cas' shoulders and scrape down his back, hard enough that Cas' hissed his pleasure aloud.

Cas grunted before he spilled himself on the gleaming paint of Baby's hood.

"Fuck yes!" Dean moaned loudly as he thrust a final time and came over Cas' lower back and down into the waiting cleft.

Dean slumped bodily over his angel's as they both tried to catch their breath. The smell of sex hung in the low alcove, and the hunter was pretty sure he would be getting a boner every time he tried to work on Baby in the near future.

"Damn Cas, that was awesome," Dean whispered into the back of Cas' neck. A small kiss followed before he peeled himself away from the mess he'd made. Grimacing, Dean reached over and grabbed a paper towel to clean them up.

"Yes, I enjoyed that. Any time you like to involve Baby in our intimate play, it is always rewarding," Cas smiled like a smug self-satisfied cat who had not only got the cream, but found the container it came in and added more to the shopping list. And Dean wasn't above admitting it was a huge ego boost to know he'd put that look there.

"Balls!" Bobby suddenly yelled. Dean almost snapped his own neck when he whipped his head around looking for the ghostly man.

"What the fuck?" Dean yelped.

"God Damn it Dean!" Bobby screamed from the trunk of the Impala.

"Bobby?" Dean shouted keeping his body over his angel trying to maintain some sense of modesty for him.

"Ain't you got any control boy? Can't even make it to a bed?" Bobby stared at them both like they wouldn't have the sense to go inside during the rain.

"Dude! You aren't even supposed to be outside the house!" Dean defended himself as he felt the come that had spread on Cas' back move between their bodies. It wasn't the most pleasant feeling, but he couldn't clean up with fucking Bobby standing there.

"That was simple – I'm bound to "home". This is home, so I can expand my roaming now. Helps when you two asshats start yelling the house down and I really want home to be anywhere you two ain't," the dead man waved his arm at them. Funny how Dean could be made to feel like a little kid with his hand stuck in the cookie jar so quickly by his pseudo father figure.

"Well, we were out here this time!" Dean rolled his eyes at himself. Fucking brilliant he thought. That didn't sound lame as hell.

"Yeah, and don't think that ain't a trauma I didn't need," Bobby shouted. Though to be honest, Bobby tended to shout most things.

"Then go away!" Dean yelled back. It suddenly felt like that time they had fought over Dean swearing he was ready to hunt with his Dad and Bobby pointing out he couldn't even hold the rifle steady.

"We were simply trying to save the light bulbs," Cas said in a completely serious voice from under Dean. Looking down, the hunter confirmed his angel wasn't even blushing in embarrassment. What the hell? Getting caught with your pants down didn't faze Cas, but mention his wings and his angelic panties get in a twist. Whatever.

"Smartass," Bobby snapped with the hint of a smile before blinking away.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

**AN –** "As you wish" and Buttercup reference: If you don't know them, I question if you're old enough to read this ;) Dred Pirate Roberts asks to see your ID please.

Also, I actually like MPREG stories, but that didn't fit with this one and I just couldn't resist adding that little jab in there. I think Dean really would wonder if Cas could do that, ya' know? Because the dude rebuilt him from a corpse, how much trouble could a uterus be anyway? Hehehe All men should have a uterus for a few months. Seriously.

And... I've never written a scene like that - hope it worked for you!


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

_Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe_. – Albert Einstein.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

Sam choked back a laugh as Dean's face turned red.

"Excuse me?" his brother managed to say as he blinked at the angel sitting next to him.

"I asked if you would pass a napkin huggy bear," Cas repeated looking confused. "I decided that would be an appropriate dear of endearment. Is there a problem?"

"Dude, I'm not a huggy bear. I'm a manly man with nothing huggy about me!"

"I enjoy hugging you," Cas pointed out. Sam bit the inside of his mouth to not laugh.

"Well, that's awesome, but you can't call me anything huggy. You gotta think of another one," Dean frowned. "Both people have to agree to the nickname Cas."

"You never asked me if it was okay to call me baby or babe when we are intimate," Cas said.

"Just did not need to know that!" Sam finally let out a huge laugh. "Could have gone my whole life without knowing what Dean calls out in the middle of sex!"

"Sam, we have not-"

"Cas!" Dean stopped the angel from completing his sentence. He then turned and said, "Sam, we're trying out nicknames."

"Cas," the eldest hunter turned back to his boyfriend, "this is a private discussion. We don't talk about sex when other people are around man," Dean was actually blushing. Sam wished he had a picture or something of this moment.

"I understand Dean. Apologies Sam. Dean does not call me baby during his orgasm. I was joking."

"Dude!" Dean shook his head as he buried his face in his hands. They were so damn funny.

Sam checked his phone again. It was well past lunch time, and she should have texted by now.

"Dude, what the hell's up with you and that phone today?" Dean asked before shoving a fork full of pie into his mouth. Cas sat next to him snuck a bite himself once in a while after refusing to order; seemed like he was getting hungrier these days.

"Nothing," Sam shoved it in his back pocket so he wouldn't be tempted.

"He is waiting for the person who texts him every Sunday at lunch time. They have not texted today, and I assume he is a little distressed given the increased frequency of checking," Cas responded as he grabbed yet another bite of crust. It astounded Sam that Dean hadn't stabbed Cas yet.

"Oh, Sammy's got a girlfriend!" his big brother crowed. "Is she a hottie? Where did you meet her?"

"Not a girlfriend Dean," Sam sighed.

"It could be a boyfriend. Studies have shown that more people lean to the middle of the Kinsey scale; just look at Dean for example," the angel mentioned off handedly before giving up all pretense and just moving Dean's plate in front of himself. Dean smiled at his angel, and Sam wished like hell he had a video of that shit. Dean didn't share food, he REALLY didn't share pie, but he would share anything and everything with Cas. It was better than a huge banner that said I love you.

"Whoa – didn't know you could swing. Congrats I guess?" Wow, Dean actually looked more uncomfortable talking about homosexuality than you would think. He currently had his male lover sitting right next to him, and he still looked like he would run from the table if this conversation continued. That was about the funniest thing ever, and since Sam was such an excellent brother, he couldn't let that moment go to waste.

"What do you mean congrats you guess? Isn't there some secret handshake you're going to teach me now? Didn't you go to the 'New Gay Orientation' class when you turned into a big ol' gay boyfriend?"

"Shut up bitch," Dean glared across the table.

"There was a class on gay etiquette? That would have been interesting; do you think we could do to the next one? It might help us resolve what to call each other," the angel pondered.

In hindsight, Sam should have noticed how Cas tracked Dean's movements. As a hunter, details were very important, but he had missed this one. The angel waited until the moment his brother had taken a huge sip of coffee and… Damn. Sam needed a pair of Google Glass things to just record his life for moments like this. Dean did the picture perfect spit take. Just let out the finest spray of brown coffee all over the table, plates, and into the empty seat next to Sam.

"Okay, Sam – you shut up. Cas? You gotta' learn sarcasm man," Dean said as he walked off to the bathroom with a napkin trying to clean his shirt.

"That was a good one Sam," Cas said quietly. When Sam looked up he saw the slightest hint of a devious smile on the angel's face.

"You really are getting good at this whole humor thing aren't you?" Sam asked with wonder in his voice.

"It helps that your brother is such an excellent mark. Also, smack talking has been entertaining to study. Your Mom jokes do not interest me though. I suppose if they were Your Dad jokes I might be able to connect more," the angel looked a little put out about that.

"No, not really Cas – they really just suck. So, tell me more about the smack talk. Dean needs to get smacked down," Sam felt it was his solemn duty as a younger brother to torture his sibling as often as possible; Cas was the perfect tool.

**S-S-S-S-S**

It came out of nowhere really. They were spending that lazy Sunday afternoon out in the neighboring pasture target shooting. Cas had never shown any interest in guns, but when he asked to go, Dean was all over it. They'd grown up taking pot shots at cans in that pasture; good times and good memories of the few times he had been able to impress his father, brother, Bobby, and himself all at the same time.

Dean had grabbed a couple of double barrel shotguns, a few boxes of ammo, and Cas. They started small. Twenty yards, huge paper target. Cas wasn't great, but he wasn't hopeless either.

In hind sight, Dean wasn't sure when the betting had begun. For every yard added in distance for Cas, he would add two for himself with a twenty yard head start. By the time they had emptied three boxes of ammo Cas owed him dinner, a make out session, and four pictures of Dean's choosing.

Unfortunately, by the time they had gone through the fourth box, Dean owed Cas everything up to his first born and Baby.

"You hussled me," Dean grinned.

"I believe that is the correct term, yes," Cas nodded looking entirely too smug. It shouldn't be possible to look smug while having such a direct stare, but the angel pulled it off.

"I can't believe you did that," the hunter was stuck between amusement and disbelief.

"I remember when you took me to play pool you said people will bet on anything, and if they think you suck they will bet big," the angel replied.

"Yeah, they will. But you have to give me a chance to win it back. That's part of the deal. Now that I know you've been practicing shooting, it's got to be something else," Dean looked thoughtful. This might be an excellent chance to get his hot piece of angel ass back on track with his work in Heaven.

"I do not think I like that arrangement. Why would I agree to do anything that would cost me my winnings? I am quite looking forward to your increased vegetable intake," he said shaking his head.

"Ok – we can bet for something new then," Dean suddenly knew exactly what he wanted his angel to do.

"Like what?"

"Let's see," Dean pretended to think about it. No need to tip Cas off about how much he wanted this – "If I win, you to go Heaven for two solid days and get caught up on your work."

"That is not fun Dean," Cas made a prissy face. Dean made a mental note to try and cut down on Cas' time with Sam. That was dangerously close to a bitchface.

"I know, but that's the bet. What about if you win?" he tried to get Cas to see the upside. Come on babe – you use to work all the time in Heaven, Dean mentally pleaded even though he knew Cas wasn't in his head anymore.

"Then, I accept. My prize will be one month of picking all music that can be played in the Impala at all times, no matter who is in it," he said with a completely blank face.

"Whoa – no. Just not happening. Dude, that's not worth two days in heaven. Seriously?" Dean took a deep breath. He was pretty sure he wouldn't lose, but not _that_ sure.

"You can, of course, decline if you suddenly realize the futility in trying to best an Angel of the Lord. I understand completely how fragile the human psyche can be," Cas shot him a look of pure understanding laced with a touch of pity.

"Two weeks of music in the Impala in exchange for four days in Heaven, and bite me angel boy." Dean shot back. Fragile his ass.

"Deal," Cas nodded in agreement.

"Really? No argument?" Dean felt a little off balance. He had been expecting way more of a fight.

"I would have agreed to one day of picking the music, so yes. Your suggestion was more than acceptable. The number of days in Heaven does not matter, because I will not lose," the angel shot him a bright smile as if it really was a foregone conclusion he would win. Jackass.

"Won't matter? I'm about to smoke your ass," Dean taunted getting a little worked up. He always did better when he was pissed off.

"I cannot decide if that sounds unappealing or somewhat sexual," Cas tilted he head as he studied his hunter. Dean was suddenly aware of every inch between them. No houses in view, alone in the middle of nowhere with pretty much no chance of getting caught. And just like that, the thought of getting Cas naked in the middle of mother nature and going down on him became all consuming.

"Knifes," Cas said. It took Dean a moment of trying to figure out where knives fit in with an afternoon of outdoor naked sexy time before he remembered what they were talking about.

"Knifes? You want a knife fight?" Dean was still trying to get the picture of a naked Cas moaning Dean's name loudly under that perfect blue sky out of his head.

"I think we should practice our knife throwing. Accuracy and distance. First one to fail to hit the target, in any zone, looses. No best two out of three either, Dean. I win when you miss." Cas was nodding to himself. Fine, after Dean won, then they could have nature inspired sexy times.

"You seem very confidant feather face!" he grinned. Dean had been throwing knifes longer than he'd been shooting. A gun made noise, and noises gave away your position to the enemy. A knife was smaller, lighter, and quieter. Also, it was more difficult to pinpoint where a knife came from because when you hit a target, they tended to stumble around before falling.

"I am. Wait, was that smack talk? I read about talking smack as a way of throwing an opponent off," Cas smiled happily and looked proudly at Dean. "That was very good Dean!"

"Kinda', but if you talk about it like that, it sort of loses something," Oh shut up Cas, Dean finished in his head.

"Do not worry Dean. I am sure your knife throwing skills will be better than your bedroom skills. They could hardly be worse after all," Cas said with complete sincerity.

Dean stared at Cas in complete shock. The hunter could feel the conflicting thoughts fighting for his attention. Cas thought he was bad in bed? Cas was that pissed off they hadn't had sex yet? Dean was pretty damn good in bed and screw Cas if he thought otherwise! Damn it, Cas seemed to always enjoy their time together.

Holy shit – was Cas faking?!

"Was that adequate smack talk? I read it did not have to be based on any truth. Much like 'Your Mom' jokes have no reference to actual mothers," Cas looked at him with concern.

"Oh, yeah – that was a pretty good example of smack talk," Dean felt the air rush in his lungs with relief coursing through his body. Right, smack talk.

"So, let's get started. Five warm up throws then we begin, fair enough?" Dean drew his knife from the sheath on his belt. He hefted the weight in his hands before bringing it up and testing the balance in a slow motion throwing motion.

"If you feel you need that much to warm up, I am certain it reflects nothing of your actual skill," Cas said, nodding as if it made complete sense.

Dean lowered the knife and turned his entire body around to look at his completely sincere angel. What the hell?

"I am getting very good at smack talking. It will be entertaining to talk smack to Sam tonight. I am trying to think of something cutting to say about his salads," Cas was all but bouncing on the tips of his toes at the thought. Man, the weirdest things could make that angel happy.

"That was great Cas. Why don't you take a throw first?" Dean was pretty sure he only said that to be polite. He wasn't actually put off his game by his boyfriends two cutting remarks.

"Of course. Skill before beauty," Cas stepped up to the stick on the ground marking twenty yards.

"Wait, what? You know what Cas – never mind. No more smack talking. Put up or shut up." Dean wasn't sure how he felt about Cas calling him was beautiful. He did know he was pissed that the angel assumed he was better at throwing.

"You wanna' borrow my knife?" Dean asked while offering the blade handle first.

"No, thank you. I will use mine," Before the hunter could point out the lack of any weapons, a small silver knife appeared in Cas' hand.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You're using your angel blade?" No fucking way. What a damn show off.

"Not the sword. Simply a small portion fashioned into a knife. It has been my weapon of choice for millenniums," Cas gave him a look which said _You're welcome to ask me to use a regular knife. I promise I never let you forget this moment either. And I will happily tell Sam, any hunter we meet, and every ghost, creature, demon, and stranger you were a baby about my choice of weapon. Ask away._

"Right, just throw," Dean groused. He occurred to him he didn't even know what shit music Cas liked. It was possible Dean could just no go anywhere until the two weeks ran out. That might actually work. He could fix the motorcycle Bobby had in one of the bays and just drive that. Cas did say the car.

Cas drew his arm back and snapped forward in a powerful throw that was almost artistic in its grace. Dean's eyes followed the knife before a bright pop of light almost blinded him.

"Cas!" Dean called out, fear lacing the single word.

"I am fine Dean," Cas' voice seemed a little put out.

"What just happened?" the hunter looked at the pristine target.

"My Grace was not strong enough to keep the blade solid after it left direct contact with my hand," Cas spoke quietly while turning his hand over and looking at his palm. He materialized another blade and just dropped it this time. Sure enough, a bright light flashed and the ground was empty. No knife resting on the grass.

"You're really losing your power aren't you? This isn't just some 'maybe I might sort of be experiencing a slight interruption which will soon be cleared up, no worries' is it?" Dean felt his heart drop.

"Actually, I believe it may be more about the amount of power and concentration required to make an angel blade separate from my grace to spin through the air," Cas looked at his hand and the angel blade sword sat bright and solid nestled in him palm.

"Have you ever been able to throw it?" Dean asked, not quite convinced.

"A few times. It is not very common to need to attack from a distance. It was foolish to try such a difficult maneuver when I was thinking about other things."

"What other things?" Dean asked reaching out and touching the blade. He had always wondered if it would be hot or cold. Would there be an electric tingle or shock? Disappointingly, it just felt like smooth metal.

"I was thinking about trying to convince you to have sex with me soon and if I could use that as my price when I showed you were vastly inferior when it came to physical combat skills," Cas said without a change in his tone. Dean was pretty sure he would always be thrown by the causal way his angel could just say stuff like that without any embarrassment.

"Wow – that's pretty damn distracting alright. And I'm not 'vastly inferior' you dork!" Dean said with a laugh.

They packed the target practice gear up and put it in the trunk. Dean managed to tease Cas and stole a kiss before sliding into the car, but his thoughts were anything but lighthearted. He had to do something about this thing with Cas. He wasn't sure what yet, but he was damn sure it was going to suck.

**S-S-S-S-S**

AN –So Sammy. I was playing around with this and decided to give Sam a little taste of what-if. I'm not going to tag it yet because it's a tiny little arc. Also, I don't think many people ship it (I certainly haven't as of this point), but I was wondering if I could write it convincingly.

Also, not to worry - a little rough patch again, but not super angsty. Remember - HEA = Happily Ever After!


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

_temperantia –_ Latin for Temperance – control over excess, so that it has many such classes, such as, self-regulation, forgiveness and mercy; each of these involves restraining some impulse, such as anger.

**S-S-S-S-S  
**

Dean took a deep breath of the clean air and titled his face to the slowly setting sun. Today had been a good day. He and Cas really did work well together. He only wondered how long that would last now.

Sam had dodged this whole case by claiming he had research to do. Every time Sam talked about research, Dean now thought about Cas' research into gay porn. Which was a little fucked up – on the one hand it was funny to think about Sam gouging his eyes out; on the other, it was hot to remember all the research Cas had put to use with Dean's body. Turned on and laughing. His brother and his angel. Mind boggling conflicts of interest there.

They sat next to each other looking over the empty pasture. Another set of bones salted and burned, another grateful home owner, and now – a bottle of very good whiskey from said home owner. They'd each taken a shot before putting it away.

The view from the back of the house was so beautiful. The closest motel was forty minutes away, and the sweet older woman had exclaimed that two such 'sweet young men' shouldn't have to spend the night in a stinky motel.

After trying not so hard to dissuade her, Dean had given in. They'd checked out this morning, thinking the ghost would be a fast one, and they could then make it almost to the state line before needing to stop. Turned out a little more complex, but not difficult. The body had been buried in multiple locations, because of course it was. Seriously, people were so fucked up sometimes.

So, with the promise of pancakes in the morning and a home cooked meal tonight as a thank you, Dean had given in gracefully. He thanked her and then very carefully put their duffle bags in two separate rooms.

Cas had raised his eyebrow at that, but Dean had shrugged. Let him think it was saving the delicate sensibility of that woman. The truth was Dean just couldn't do this anymore.

"So, Sam says he found a couple of interesting leads," Cas began. "We could head out tomorrow and meet up with him in Sexton, Arkansas if you like."

"Sounds like a plan," Dean answered distractedly.

"Or we go back and pick him up," Cas offered.

"Either way is fine," Dean paused. This was the perfect opening. "In fact, I guess I could go grab Sam. He and I could take care of it. Sam mentioned you had stuff to do upstairs, right?"

"Nothing important," Cas shrugged as if dissing Heaven was just not important.

"Still, you need to get your crap done. And we could use some time apart, ya' know?" Dean tried to sound casual.

"No, I do not know," Cas said with a slight edge in his voice. Well, maybe.

Honestly, Dean's head was so screwed up right now he might have been imaging the edge, because he'd half hoped to hear it and half dreaded it. Hoped Cas would be pissed at the thought of a break, and dread that he would think it was great idea. Just because Dean was going through with this didn't mean was happy about it.

"Ya' know – we've been in each other's pockets for a while. Might be nice to take a little breather. You do your work, I do mine. Right?" Dean tore up a leaf in his hand. He watched the way it ripped along the vein, clinging to each thread holding it together until his fingers forced them to rip apart. The delicate beauty destroyed. Like every other good and pure thing in his life. Ripped apart and torn asunder.

"I have no desire to get out of your pocket," Cas said with a smile in his voice. Dean felt him scoot closer.

"Right, but we should. It makes sense," Dean let the mangled leaf fall to the ground before picking another one up.

"What kind of sense," Cas asked leaning his head on Dean's shoulder. Fucking angel not getting the whole social cue thing. Why did Dean have to actually say the word? Fucking fuck.

"I think I could use a little break. That's all." Dean lied.

Cas sat up and Dean looked over at him for the first time.

"Why?" the angel frowned.

"Because I just need one. That's why," Dean couldn't look Cas in the eyes anymore. God, he was an awful person. Why the hell was he doing this again? Castiel equaled Angel. Angel equaled Castiel. Dean plus Castiel equaled Fallen Angel. Fallen Angel equaled Dean was an awful person and should control his dick.

"That is non-sensical. Why do you need to be away from me?" frustration laced Cas' every word.

"It just – look, I'm not saying I don't want to be around you. I just think this thing between us should cool down a little. It's going kinda' fast, ya' know?" Right. Fast.

"You fornicate with women you haven't known a full hour. We have been friends and brothers in arms for years. I know your soul and you have stood by my side through death multiple times. How much slower can it up?" Cas asked. Wow. Good points – Dean didn't actually have anything to say, because Cas was dead on right with all of them.

"Just shut up Cas," Dean said, falling back to the standard retort, as he stood up.

"I deserve an answer Dean," Dean looked over again at the angel sitting on the ground and felt like the biggest asshole. His mouth pulled down, shoulders slumped, and eyes – fuck those eyes. They almost undid his resolve.

"This isn't good," he choked out.

"You have ceased enjoying our intimate times together." Cas said and broke eye contact to look out over the green field. And that's what hurt the most. Cas never broke eye contact; he never stopped staring.

"No, not that –", Dean said. He couldn't let Cas think anything like that. This had been the most important and amazing few months of his life. He felt reborn and alive in a way he never had. He wanted to protect and honor and love and cherish Cas. So, he was going to do that, even if Cas hated him at the end of it.

"You are not making any sense," Cas said with a flat voice. "If you would like, I can leave now." The fact that he remained sitting in the cooling night air was a clear sign to Dean the angel really didn't want to leave.

"You don't have to go man." Dean sighed. "I'm not doing this well."

"I do not even understand what you are doing, so I find I must agree with that statement."

Dean smirked. Was it possible to love somebody even more while sorta' cooling things off? And what sort of fucked up person was he, that he was doing this? God, he was messed up in the head.

"Right. So, I think we should take a break. That's all."

"I asked before, and I am asking again. Why?" Cas' frown deepened like it did when a situation continued to remain a mystery even after several explanations.

"Because – I think it's the best thing!" Dean exclaimed.

"I do not agree. It might help me understand better if you had actual reasons."

"Actually, I don't need to give you reasons. I don't even need your permission. I'm cooling it off. Done." Dean wondered if relationships ever hit this point and then the people just stayed together because one person refused to allow it to end. Yeah, and those people got called stalkers by the eleven o'clock news.

"Hmm," Cas looked up at the sky as he hummed thoughtfully.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked, snark sneaking into his voice.

"It means nothing. It is a filler sound. I learned it from Crowley. It is used to fill an awkward silence and encourage the other party to talk," Cas explained.

"Nothing awkward here," Dean frowned. When the hell had Cas taken social lessons from the King of Hell? And did Dean really want an answer to that?

"Really? You have seen me nude and pleasured me in ways I had never imagined. Now you tell me you are no longer interested in continuing that relationship. I find that not only awkward, but hurtful as well. I am not sure what the social protocol for 'cooling off' is, but I am assuming you will no longer be dating me. In that case, it also means we are available to see other people. I think that would cause several awkward situations." Cas and his stupid well thought out logical statements.

"You are not going to date anybody else Cas. Fuck – you can't date at all!" Dean ranted.

"Excuse me? Why would I allow my ex-boyfriend to set rules for after our relationship? I do not think that is correct." Cas looked at him like a confused, wounded puppy. Fucking Sammy couldn't have done it better.

"Dude, 'M not your ex-boyfriend," Dean grunted.

"Oh. I thought we were going steady. I apologize – I think I have made a very large mistake and misunderstood several things," Cas stood up not even looking at the field anymore. His eyes were downcast. Fuck! Dean screwed everything up.

"We are!" Dean grabbed the angel by the shoulders and held on tight.

"We were. You are breaking up with me," Cas looked different. He wasn't angry exactly, and not really sad. He looked… calculating. And that was more than a little freaky.

"NO! Dude, I said cool it off, not break up. Just no making out and shit." Dean needed a card he could show people that said '_I'm a fucking idiot; proceed with caution_.' Or maybe another tattoo.

Cas blinked. Dean couldn't blame him. God, that sounded even lamer when said out loud. He should have practiced this before approaching the topic.

"You want to date me, but not make out with me?" the angel asked carefully.

"Yea?"

"No," Cas shook his head.

"What!?"

"I find I enjoy kissing. I do not think I would enjoy being with you without touching you. I want to be touched," Cas' face gave nothing up. It would have been useful if the falling shit included Cas showing his emotions on his face.

"Cas, it's just not a good idea, ok?" begged Dean.

"I will ask again, why?" Cas just never gave up on shit. The amount of calm he kept wrapped around himself was so fucking frustrating. Seriously? It was like arguing with a stone sometimes.

"Because you're fucking falling! You can't mess around like this. We need to keep you from falling and until we know more, we just need to back off. Right? So that's what we will do." Dean took a deep breath.

Cas looked like he finally understood. The silence extended while Cas appeared to be thinking these through. Dean felt a tightness in his chest that felt like an ever tightening band of steel.

"So no dating other people, just no making out and touching. Not until we know what's going on. K?" Dean pleaded.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

"No," Cas shook his head. It was not easy to get an Angel of the Lord angry. Annoyed? Well, that was actually fairly easy. If you lived with brothers who had virtually unlimited cosmic powers in what was really an itty bitty living space, you'd quickly find yourself annoyed as well at times.

Dealing with said annoyance was a skill, a trait, and as it turned out, excellent training for dealing with a pissed off Dean Winchester. An unrightfully pissed off Dean Winchester was surely worse than a trial of ordeal.

"You're falling. We don't even know why, so I think it's best we just cool things off for a while. Just until we figure it out." Arrogant. Humanity was arrogant. That was the only possible explanation for why Dean was trying to make these choices for Cas he didn't want.

"You think kissing me will make me fall? Dean, you are an excellent kisser, but I honestly doubt even you are that good." Okay, Castiel would admit he was not the most skilled at curbing his tongue. But compared to Dean, he was a grand master.

"And how the fuck would you know? Are you saying Meg was better? Or shit – have you been out comparing me to random guys? FUCK! Girls?" Dean was clinching his fists. After Sam had shared his 'paths of Dean anger management theorem' Cas recognized the clenching was 'a bad bad thing'.

"Do not be obtuse," Cas tried to use his best level voice. Was Dean really accusing him of infidelity? How could even an angel be expected to sit and allow someone to call them unfaithful? That was the most vile thing ever said to him.

"So now I'm not a good kisser, and I'm a dumbass?" Dean's face was flushing.

"No, but you are being silly. Why would I kiss anyone else? When would I have the time if I wanted to, and where would you suggest I find someone better suited for me than you?" Cas was dangerously close to raising his voice.

"I'm not silly. And if you wanted to, you could flit out while I slept!"

Castiel actually felt like he had been slapped. Was Dean honestly considering Cas a cheating risk?

"You will stop now. I have never once thought carnally about anyone in my existence but you." Cas felt the anger vibrating under his skin. He knew he was clueless when it came to certain areas of humanities social interactions, but this was beyond the realm of pernicious.

"Well, you're the one that said I wasn't good enough in bed to make you fall," Dean ranted. Clearly his hunter was under the spell of 'crazy ass witch voodoo'.

"How did this go from you declining to make out with me, to me cheating on you?" Cas asked trying to control the urge to smack Dean upside the head. He had seen Bobby do it on more than one occasion, and it seemed Cas understood the old man's perchance to violent affection now.

"Stop confusing the two issues," the hunter almost yelled as he started pacing quickly. Cas could tell from the furtive glance at the house that Dean was worried about broadcasting their argument to the sweet elderly lady who said she would make them some cake for dessert tonight. Dean had, for once, not mentioned how cake was the lesser of all desserts and thanked her.

"Dean, control please. There is no issue here. I want to kiss you, touch you. I do not want to touch or kiss or have sexual relations with any other person, creature, or deity, living or dead, except you. Ever." Cas spoke with complete truth and convention.

That seemed to knock the wind out of Dean's sails a little.

"Ok," he said rolling his shoulders. Even Cas could see Dean felt a little blindsided by such a complete gutting of his argument. Sam's theorem suggested the relaxation of shoulders could mean either acceptance of the situation or preparing to deliver a lethal attack. So far Sam had been very accurate in his assessment of Dean's behaviors.

"We still aren't going to make out any more," he grumbled.

"Dean, angels have had sex throughout history. I provided you with a list. They did not fall, and us cavorting is not the reason for this unfortunate set events." His hunter never listened.

"Then what is? We don't have another theory man – and I can only work with what we got," Dean said, his pacing resumed, but slower.

"We don't have any theories. I explained why sex isn't a reason angels fall. It's not a theory. You just…" Cas trailed off as an ugly thought occurred to him.

"I just what?" Dean's eyes narrowed.

"Are you afraid of furthering our intimacy? I told you I would not ask for more sexually from you and I meant it. I am perfectly content and well pleased with our mutual orgasms. I enjoyed your exploration the other day that provided me with an orgasm via rectal play, but I would not push further. It was a welcome surprise." Cas tried to reach out to the small portion of his Grace surrounding Dean's soul.

_Believe me,_ Cas silently prayed.

"Jesus Cas – no! I told you I was working it! This isn't about butt sex, ok? I just don't want you to loose what power you still have because of me, okay?" Dean slummed to the grass.

"And I told you I would not. Why are you refusing to believe me? Why are you refusing to accept I might know more about this than you?" Maybe Cas needed to start pacing. It seemed to work well for Dean.

"Because you just found out what your dick is for and trust me, I know how blinding it can be!"

"I am aware of what my phallus is and what it is for. My virginal status is not the reason for this argument," Cas said with restraint. "I understand your point of view. I disagree most strongly, but I will respect your wishes."

"I don't exactly wish this man – I want to slam you against the bed and strip you naked. I _want_ to make you yell in Enochian you're so wrecked by my sexual prowess that you can't even think in one language. But I also want you to keep your angel mojo. And if I have to pick, I'm always going to pick what's best for you." This time it was Dean who looked like he silently praying for Cas to believe in him.

"That's very sweet Dean." This was one of those times Cas was thankful to his Father for angelic temperance in trying situations.

Cas needed to calm down and think this through. Dean's words hurt. The thought of not being allowed to kiss and hold his hunter was almost heartbreaking. At least Dean was not running from him this time.

After getting his first taste of love and physical affection, to be denied simply 'for your own good' with no solid proof it would even help… It was as though Dean thought him a child. Castiel had given the hunter actual evidence that not only wouldn't it help, but wasn't even a factor. It hurt.

However, if Cas had learned anything from his time with the Winchesters and other hunters during the last few years it was this: when you're hurt there are three options. You lash out, pretend it never happened, or you leave. None were options he wanted.

Cas took a deep breath.

What he wanted to say was this:

_Your frame of reference is skewed at best. The physical relationship you are talking about is only a minor fraction of the desires I have. I want you completely, and your body is only the smallest part. After holding your soul, can you believe your body holds more interest to me than who you are inside? I want to watch you fall apart, because I know – first hand- how strong you are._

_The act of you allowing yourself that pleasure with me says more about your emotional connection to me than any number of sexual positions or orgasms ever could. And yet you deny me. You deny us; you believe it's 'best' for me. You are not only incapable of understanding angelic power; you have never trusted it. You believe the worst in every single life you meet, regardless of their true intension. I do not stand a chance in the face of your self-hatred, self-loathing, self-deprecation, and self-rejection. _

_I will not allow your delusions to stop me from realizing my desires. You are petty to assume I cannot take care of myself better than you. You must allow that I have more knowledge on this matter and allow my will and judgment to triumph. There are no planes of existence on which you win the fight to keep us apart save the one in which you reject me completely. This is not an option._

But that would not end well. Dean would take the complete rejection option and run like hell was after him. Cas could not survive that. So no matter that he was correct in this; he could not quell Dean's desire to play the hero. At least, not this way.

So, to the matter at hand – while the Winchester boys seemed to have denial and guilt and martyrdom sown up, Castiel would go to what he knew. War.

And every soldier knew you never entered combat without a clear goal, list of obstacles, tactical advantages, resources, plan of attack, a back-up plan, and an escape route. Almost without a conscience thought he created a preliminary plan detailing his assets and advantages and ways they could assist him in winning.

**Goal**: Obtain Dean Winchester's undivided, guilt-free, love. And body. With sex if possible, but not required.

**Obstacles****: **

**1. **Dean's hero complex and desire to be a martyr**  
****Solution**: None found. Work around complex by exploiting weaknesses.

**2. **Dean listens to Sam about causes of power declining.**  
****Solution**: Wipe Sam's memory to erase current situation. **  
****Result**? Dean would find creative way to end Castiel. Not in line with goal. - discard

**Solution**: Change Sam's mind. **  
****Result**? Favorable.

**3. **Dean feeling guilty and being a hero.  
**Solutions**: Prove sexual contact is not the reason for declining power.**  
****Result**? Highly unlikely to be believed - discard

**Tactical Advantages (weaknesses):**

**1.**** Impala  
Value: **Extremely high emotional attachment  
**Exploit for advantage:  
* **Deep connection to Baby enables emotional outlet.  
*** **Enjoys sexual fantasies surrounding vehicle.  
**Results**? Possible use.

**2.**** Sam  
Value**: Values his judgment and needs his approval to be happy  
*** **Trusted by Dean  
*** **Intensely interested in Dean's happiness  
*** **Also has martyr complex  
*** **A true romantic makes him open to a love story  
**Exploit for advantage:  
* **Prove reasons for falling to not include Dean.  
*** **Provide research with sited citations.  
*** **Play on desire for Dean's happiness.  
**++ Guilt works well on Sam.  
* **Using puppy eyes  
*** **Tears would weaken his position on Dean's cause.  
**Result?** Favorable

**3.**** Air Supply (musical group, not actual air)  
****Value**:  
*** **Secret enjoyment of love songs exposes desire for love  
*** **Becomes emotionally vulnerable when heard  
**Exploit for advantage:  
* **Unknown. Possible use in future.  
**/*/Warning: **possible anger at hearing above music.  
**Result?** Caution, but workable.

**4.**** Castiel's Innocence  
****Value**:  
*** **Dean values innocence  
++ Rarity in sex inflates value of innocence.  
*** **Dean enjoys corrupting  
++ Corruption must not be deviant.  
++ Dean must have complete control of corruption  
**Exploit for advantage**:**  
* **Subtle reminders of enjoying 'dirtying' an angel  
**/*/Warning:** too many reminders will trigger martyrdom  
* Pictures of debasing said innocence cause favorable reactions.  
**/*/Warning!** Pictures are forever**  
****Result?** Highly Favorable outcome. Likely to lead to victory.

**5.**** Claiming and Marking  
****Value**:  
*** **Taps into primal reaction to see physical proof of sexual prowess  
*** **Acts as a marker to other people as claiming or possession.**  
****Exploit for advantage:  
*** If a strange marking appeared, possible jealous reaction.  
Warning – Possible jealous reaction**  
++ **Marking of Dean usually results in a 'gooey puddle of happy'  
*** **May be difficult given rule of no making out**  
* **Permanent markings such as tattoos and angelic marks  
Implied commitment evokes deep emotions**  
++ **Seems to cement connection from transient to permanent**  
++ **Must be of emotional import. Research.**  
****Results? **Varied**  
* **Marks on Castiel – variable and uncontrollable. Proceed with caution.**  
* **Marking Dean – Favorable to highly favorable though difficult**  
* **Permanent Markings – Highly favorable if correctly done. Note: Soul/Grace Research useful.

**6.**** Sexual Contact****  
****Value**:**  
* **Creates connection and exposes vulnerability**  
****Exploit for advantage:  
* **Dirty talk  
Dean finds dirty words stimulating**  
***** **Naughty photos**  
/*/WARNING**: photos may not stay private – caution required  
*** **Tease and wind up sexual tension relentlessly**  
++ **Multiple ways of enacting.  
*** **Voice**  
++ **Dean appears to be turned on by Castiel's voice  
Be overly vocal appreciative of any contact  
Lower voice means more turned on  
**Results**?  
* Range from Favorable to victory to highly favorable. And entertaining.

**7.**** Honorable  
Value:  
* **Dean will obey all terms in an agreement  
**Exploit for advantage:  
++ **Carefully construct any agreements to favor Castiel**  
++ **Dean will not except any duplicitous reasons when forming agreement.  
**Results? **Excellent

**/+/Resources**

**1. **New phone  
*** **Practice sending photos

**2. **Voice

**3. **Remaining angelic power  
*** **Certain to be of some use.

**4. **Dean's jealous nature  
*** **This is a tentative asset. Over use will render it a liability.

**5. **Body  
*** **Dean appears to find it sexually pleasing

**Plan of Attack**

**1. **Use resources to maximum advantage  
*** **Tease  
*** **Send naughty photos  
*** **Talk dirty  
*** **Find way to bond Grace and soul

**2. **Remove Sam's negative influence  
*** **No memory wiping  
*** **Change Sam's stance

**Back-up plan**

Regroup and reassess. Likelihood of failure minimal.

**Escape route**

***+*None.*+***

Dean had no idea what force of Heavenly determination was about to rain down on him.

"I do not accept your premise that sexual contact would cause me to fall," Cas said after several moments of silence.

"Cas – Look…" Dean began.

"However," he continued loudly, cutting off further comment, "I will refrain from touching you if you wish."

"Okay…?" Dean looked unsure.

"I promise to not date or touch anyone else," Cas continued as the cataloged his various advantages and laid out a systematic plan of attack.

"Oh, good," Dean said looking concerned. Cas could clearly see Dean had not though that far.

"Are those the boundaries you agree to?" It was always a good idea to firmly establish the skirmish boundaries.

"Yeah, no making out, no sexual touching, no dating other people," Dean nodded looking more than a little concerned as Cas laid the terms out much like a cross roads demon would. Well, Cas spent more time with Crowley then he wanted to; some of it must have rubbed off.

"Until we find a solution or reach a resolution, correct?" Cas clarified. This was his loop hole, tossed in as an almost afterthought. Rarely did the brothers pay attention to the details when they thought they had won an argument or a battle.

"Eh – yeah. Solution," Dean stumbled. Cas thought it was cute when his hunter got tongue tied.

"I have one thing to add," Cas decided to try and tack on an advantage. It was possible Dean would agree, but not likely. And it would also allow Dean a measure of his much sought after control to remain.

"What's that?" Dean looked weary again.

"I want you to kiss me sometimes. That is all. My Grace was never affected by any kisses I have ever been given over time," Cas drop a little bomb and watched the flush explode across Dean's face as Cas' words sunk in.

"Exactly how many kisses have you had personal experience with, Cas? You're a virgin!" Dean's temper could also be added to Cas' list of advantages.

"Inexperienced Dean. Not innocent," was all the angel said in a voice that brooked no more discussion.

"Also, I want you to acknowledge as part of this arrangement that I am only agreeing to it for you. I do not agree with the reasoning, and I am not pleased with this," Cas supplied as a balm for Dean's ego.

"Noted," Dean nodded looking relieved.

Cas smirked to himself. He could control himself. He could curb his anger at this stupid situation Dean decided was for the best. But he was also an excellent tactician. He wanted Dean under him moaning his name as Cas rode the hunter hard. The only question was how to get from here to there with the fewest causalities.

"So we are set on the new rules. No full on making out, no sex, and no dating or kissing other people for either of us, until a solution or resolution to the problem can be found or until you change your mind. That is it, correct?"

"Yep – sounds like a plan. And I won't change my mind," Dean nodded

Cas sat back down and patted the ground next to him. Dean scooped over with a relieved sigh.

"We're ok, right?" Dean asked.

"Yes. We are okay Dean."

"Good. I – I really care about you Cas. I just want you to be happy and not regret anything. Ya' know?

"I understand. I do not agree, but I understand. You know my job in heaven, right?"

"Executive of whatever Heaven needs executives for? Yeah. Boring right?"

"Yes, but my other one. When I was in the garrison, I was the master of Tactics. Planning. Warfare. Where to hit for maximum results in a battle. I rarely came out on the losing side. I am very good at my job."

"Yeah…,"

Cas unbuttoned his pants and pulled the zipper and pushing the fabric aside as it slipped down.

"Dude, what-?"

"I have trained for millennia to always win in any skirmish. Dean, we are in a skirmish, and I know your weaknesses." Cas pulled his half hard cock from his boxers and tilted his head back. The golden sun caressed his face and cock as the wind picked up his soft sighs.

"Cas – that's not-"

"Do you know this is the first time I've touched myself without you telling me to?" his hand stripped up and down, and he made sure his uneven breathing was a little louder than it really needed to be.

"Ah-"

"I bought a new phone," Cas said apropos of nothing.

"That right?" Dean asked, his voice just a little higher than usual. Castiel cataloged the fact away. Dean liked this and was not stopping him.

"Yes. Sam helped me. He showed me how to take pictures and video and send them. I have your contact information."

"Jesus Cas –"

Cas looked over at Dean and knew he looked debauched. "I am a warrior Dean. You keep forgetting that. I know how to fight, and being an angel doesn't mean I fight like a fairy princess."

Cas let his hand speed up. The grip was loose and he felt a little too exposed out here to relax enough to actually orgasm, but Dean's flushed cheeks were worth it.

"Damn Cas – this isn't what I meant!" Dean's cheeks were flushed.

"But it is within the boundaries you agreed to, correct?" Carefully letting his voice get caught on the last word, Cas intentionally stumbled with his stroke. Dean swallowed loudly, but didn't look away.

"You play dirty," the hunter scowled.

"I want you to get me dirty," Cas whispered as Dean abruptly stood up.

"Shut up. This isn't what I meant," Dean licked his lips while his eyes swept over Cas' body.

"And yet, it's what you agreed to," Cas lewdly thrust his hips into his waiting fist.

"I gotta' go," the hunter mumbled as he took a shaky step backward.

"Why?" the angel tried his best to look innocent while he licked his palm and continued pumping himself.

"Fuck! I need to go jack off now. Alone!" Dean started to walk away with a little hitch in his step.

"Enjoy," Cas called out as he tucked himself back in his pants. It wasn't as much fun without Dean watching. Maybe he would try again later when he was not sitting in the middle of nature.

**S-S-S-S-S**

B–

Trial by ordeal is the ancient practice of subjecting a person to a trial by way of proving their innocence through a physical proof. Examples would be trials of fire and water (like the witch trials – a witch was innocent if she sank and guilty if she floated which was actually a reverse of the old trial by water).

And, what did you think about the battle plan? I thought it was kinda' something a soldier would do – access the conditions and create an instant list of variables. Getting the outline in FF was crazy coding - I hope it looked good. Thoughts?

Also - **Happy Birthday** to me =) That's why you guys got another update so fast! I love my birthday *happy sighs*


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23 **

_Patientia_ – Latin for Patience – the state of endurance under difficult circumstances, which can mean persevering in the face of delay or provocation without acting on annoyance/anger in a negative way.

**S-S-S-S-S**

Castiel frowned as he looked around the Heavenly boardroom. His belly roiled with frustration at being here and aggravation with Dean over his nonsensical conclusion they should cease interacting sexually. At least he had secured an agreement that kissing was acceptable. And hopefully Dean wouldn't freak completely out when Cas started texting him after this meeting.

Sitting to his right was a small angel he knew on sight, but had never spoken at length with. To his left was right was Maricle. She was quickly becoming his closest contact in Heaven. They seemed to have a similar distaste for the new management style being employed by the Host.

While it would be frowned on to not pay attention, Castiel wondered briefly if he could get away with surreptitiously play a game on his new phone. Sam had downloaded several addicting games yesterday and Cas found himself extremely entertained.

The room quieted down as Joshua walked in and took his place at the front of the room. Oh well, he should really pay attention anyway. Hopefully Joshua would be done soon.

**S-S-S-S-S**

Joshua quietly looked at the angels before him. They were all in another 'all angels meeting' to discuss the new forward thinking growth enhancements that were to become a core component of their quotas. The meeting had just started and the gathered angels all looked up at him, waiting for the newest directive.

When Joshua had received this latest memo, he had known there would be trouble. A few of the less strict angels had been spreading rumors and gossiping. A couple were trying very hard to learn about how to apply the business world mentality to Heaven, but most of them were simply here because they were told to be there. And of course, Castiel. Always Castiel.

Joshua just wanted to go back to his heavenly garden. This whole corporate thing was not him. Yes, he would like to be an archangel if they opened up any positions, but it wasn't worth it if he would be stuck in this paradise of an obviously disturbed individual who believed an office was heaven. And his desk. There existed the very real possibly it was haunted or even possessed. He had carefully scribed an anti-demonic sigil on it a week ago, but the little 'Lego' pieces refused to stop appearing. Different colors, different sizes. No order.

He stared at little Castiel, Angel of Thursday, Breaker of Rules, Ender of the Apocalypse, The Rebel. It was confusing for Joshua to understand why Castiel had been allowed to not only survive, but thrive in this new heaven. Why were the angels being encouraged to try free will?

It was madness. But God had told him that angels needed to advance, so it was Joshua's job to help them advance.

"I will ask again brothers, do you have any suggestions for improving the forward thinking growth enhancements?" Joshua asked. So far, there had been no suggestions.

"You mean prayers. Do we have an idea on how to improve human's prayers? No." replied a stone faced Castiel. Joshua started tapping his foot. That rebel never used the correct terms.

"No, not their prayers. The forward thinking growth enhancement is a way of picking which prayer to answer to maximize the cost to benefit ratio," So there 'Mr. I stir up Trouble Everywhere I Go'. Joshua really needed to spend some time outside after this meeting. The lighting was giving him a celestial headache, and this new found free will made him want to give Castiel a punch in the face.

"Well," Castiel said sitting straight in his chair, never fidgeting, "that would depend on what costs were involved. We have never known what 'cost' should be placed on our time, our compassion, or use of Grace to help answer prayers."

"Costs of course would vary between each situation," Joshua replied and took a breath to move onto the next item of this never ending meeting.

"I am curious brother – What is the exact cost for comforting a grieving child?" Castiel asked with that tilt to his head. Why did he tilt his head Joshua wondered? Mostly he now wanted to smack Castiel's head straight. Such an aggravating angel.

"That's not what I'm talking about. We should focus on prioritizing our efforts –" Joshua wished for a moment that he could bind Castiel's mouth shut. 'You shouldn't even be here!' Joshua wanted to yell into Castiel's mind.

"What is the exact cost of answering a prayer for forgiveness?" asked one of the angels in the back.

"Is there a chart?" inquired a small angel named Tennin to his right.

"A spreadsheet?" added one that Joshua recognized as Murat, an avid business book reader.

"What's a ratio? Did I miss that memo? Is it a sin?" questioned Dumah, the angel who looked forever like he was on the verge of sleeping.

"Do we have expense accounts?" At this point, Joshua stopped trying to follow the questions and just looked straight at stupid blue eyed Castiel. He started this. All of it. He thwarted Heaven's plans, broke the Host into a civil war, and sided against them all.

"Are we using up all the Grace?" asked Nuriel. Joshua felt very strongly she needed to be retaught the basics of how angelic powers worked.

"Should we be charging for each prayer we answer?" That was most likely the single most inane question to date. What would they even charge? Ying? Pounds? Euros? US dollars? Gold? Blood? How stupid.

"Would a pie-chart help?" asked Darda'il the business devotee angel.

"Silence!" Joshua roared. Free will would be the end of Heaven. It spread like a heavenly blight.

"Castiel, you will stop inciting rebellion!" Joshua's face was a picture of fury. The rest of the angels turned to look at Castiel.

"I asked a question in order to answer yours. I would very much need to know exact costs involved to give a cost to benefit ratio you asked for," Castiel said while sitting serenely, no heat or derision in his words.

"It's rebellion to want to know what words mean?" asked a young angel. On closer inspection Joshua recognized him as Orifiel.

"How are we measuring the benefit?" Moroni spoke out.

"Is it how well we did our jobs? Is it tied into a performance review to keep our positions?" a panicked voice asked from the back.

It was complete chaos. Castiel just sat in his chair with a calm look on his face; Joshua on the other hand looked ready smite the rebel. Some of the more self-aware of their brothers had backed up and were stealthily pulling their wings out. Whether to protect themselves from the fall out of a fight, join said fight, or flee, Joshua wasn't sure.

"We will not be using that as a measurement of performance review!" Joshua snapped, his voice rising above the general chattering and causing a moment of silence when everybody looked to see what was happening and if it was interesting. Because even between angels in heaven, everybody enjoys a good cat fight.

"So there will be performance reviews of some kind? Interesting. Are we allowed to know when they will be and what rubric upon which they will based on?" asked a snotty little Sandalphon. Joshua wanted to punch him in the face as well now. He was a jumped up twat.

"NO!" Joshua shouted. A waterfall. An isolated waterfall with the only birdsong to interrupt his thoughts. That was what Joshua thought about when he closed his eyes for a moment trying to find his center.

"So a secret review-" Tennin got out before being interrupted.

"No reviews will occur, didn't you hear him?" Murat supplied in a snipped voice.

"They are being suspended?" Dumah asked.

Joshua looked at Castile and spoke in a booming voice, "You will not question me further about performance reviews or costs. Now – You, Castiel, answer my question."

"I apologize. I have gotten quiet lost. Which question was that?" Castiel asked.

"Wait, I want to know more about this performance review – are you spying on us?" asked Mericle

"We're being spied on?" shouted a suddenly alert Orifiel.

"I'm not comfortable with that. Aren't we protected by angel/human confidentiality?" asked Tennin. Never before had any of the angels paid much attention at these meetings, and now they were running amuck with wild theories about insane reviews that weren't even planned.

"Brothers," Castiel said trying to calm the suddenly electric meeting. Joshua started to grind his teeth. Castiel with all his influence and Father awful free will was about to take over the meeting and undermine everything Heaven was trying to get done. The Host would turn on Joshua and it would be a metaphorical bloodbath.

S-S-S-S-S

"Meeting dismissed. We will reconvene tomorrow; until then, write your questions down and put them in my inbox," Joshua snapped and sat heavily in his chair. How much it reminded Castiel of Dean when he would pout over something Sam said. Well, Joshua was not as good looking or kind or funny as Dean, but still…

"Castiel, please join me in my office," the irritated angel directed him.

Castiel followed while thinking about all the possible ways this could go. Joshua was not a bad angel, he wasn't even a tarnished angel. He was however a very self-important angel, which annoyed Castiel.

"I want you to stop undermining me," Joshua said as he shut his office door quietly.

"I am not undermining you," Castiel corrected. "I simply needed more information with which to form the answer you requested.

"You are. You are trying to turn the host against me," Joshua's cheeks flushed. Castiel considered that a moment. Flushing was a sign of emotion; the Host did not have emotion. If Joshua felt angry or embarrassed or even aroused, then free will had indeed been expanding its reach.

"I am not; I assure you. I have no desire to turn the Host against you," Castiel spoke with even tones.

"You have been spending too much time with your human pets," Joshua's face turned ugly with what was quiet possibly his first sneer.

"The Winchester's are not mine, and they are most certainly not pets." His anger was rising. Power was a delicate thing. He could use this little argument to further his goals in heaven, but lately… Well, lately those goals seemed less and less important.

"You're going native," Joshua accused him.

"I am a native of Heaven. I am not exactly sure what you mean," Castiel hedged. He knew exactly what Joshua was alluding too and honestly, it worried him a little bit as well.

"You should have been exiled. You should have fallen," Joshua's words fell on him like a rain of arrows. In times past he had joined Joshua in brotherly companionship. Now his brother loathed him. There was nothing he could do to stem this tide of resentment and distrust.

"That was not for you to decide," Castiel replied patiently.

"I asked God to exile you. You are nothing but a bad example. Everything we stood for Castiel – everything! I don't understand how you could have turned your back against us so completely and then have the nerve to return. It disgusts me." Joshua's voice went from angry to infuriated in that one tirade.

"I am sorry to hear that," Castiel said with a weary sigh. He understood why Joshua felt like this; he really felt more angels shared this view point then he knew about.

"Your lessons in free will are destroying the fabric of Heaven," Joshua spat with righteous anger.

"God disagrees with you, but I am sorry you feel that way," Castiel gave in and defended himself a little bit. No matter how angry his brothers were he had been forgiving by God himself, and it was absolutely not their place to second guess His decisions.

"You think God would side with you if you started another civil war?" the senior angel asked as he leaned back in the chair.

"I did not start the first one – I sided with humanity and followed what I felt would have been God's desires. What other angels choose to do is not on me," Castiel tried to explain the subtle difference.

"It was not for you pick any side but the side of heaven or to follow any orders but those given to you by the archangels," Joshua retorted.

_"Bless the Lord, ye his angels, that excel in strength, that do his commandments, hearkening unto the voice of his word,"_ Castiel recited.

"Don't quote the scripter at me," the senior angel frowned his displeasure.

"This is not productive," Castiel really wanted to leave. There was no way to change the seniors angel's mind, and honestly Castiel didn't disagree with some of the sentiments. He still had trouble with his own actions some days.

"Apologize in the next meeting. If you don't, I will assign you to the planning and design department," Joshua gave a tight smile that reminded Cas of a shark that thought it had trapped its prey. Planning and design was code for 'cleaning empty Heaven to make way for new Heavens'. It was a dirty and undesirable job.

Cas tilted his head for a moment trying to decide how to handle this. He was really trying to not rise to this fight that Joshua was clearly trying to start.

"No thank you. And if you think I will be better utilized in P&D, I will of course do my best in any position. I would need a few days to get you caught up on my work on the morality ratios in believers vs. followers. I started breaking down the numbers by various regional and socioeconomic factors. I've also factored time in, so each graph is now a topographical representation of the data," Castiel offered. The way Joshua eyes glazed over at the details the details of Castiel's project led Castiel believe he would not be switching departments any time soon.

"You think you're so smart… I wonder if there are any more trials for the Winchester's to undertake. I understand they are not as busy as they once were," the senior angel may as well have announced he planned to mess with Castiel's hunters.

He realized this was just Joshua further baiting him, but anger burned through his being. Joshua was playing a dangerous game. But why was it that everyone seemed to forget who he was and what he was capable of?

Joshua wanted a fight? Castiel was surprised; Joshua had been one of the most peaceful angel he had ever known.

"I will not fight you brother. The Winchesters can and will defend themselves. I would highly suggest you think about how affective they have been not just at stopping the apocalypse but numerous other endeavors. They summoned Death and he agreed to _give_ them his ring for putting Lucifer in his cage – which they managed to actually do. You remember the only other one to accomplish such a feat? That was Father himself," Castiel took a moment before continuing.

"One sold his soul to save his brother, and that brother brought him back from Hell. One went through the trials to close the gates of Hell including killing a hell hound and saving a demon. Oh, and that demon was Crowley, the King of Hell. They ended Lilth, Alistair, and Azazael – the three most wanted demons on Heaven's radar. That of course doesn't include protecting a prophet, finding Metatron, killing all manner of monsters, surviving in Purgatory and escaping, and of course altering the very path of Heaven and Hell," Castiel gave Joshua a small smile as the other angel looked more than a little concerned.

"That's an interesting battle to take up just to hurt me. But if you must, you must. I do not wish to see you harmed though," Castiel finished.

"I could just smite them, no one is watching out for them. Would you protect them?" Joshua just couldn't seem to let go of doing something to bring Castiel pain.

"Joshua," Castiel says with an even voice, even though he feels each arrow of hatred through his gut. "I will not fight with you. I am here by the Grace of our Father. I do not question why he kept me here; I only thank Him for His unconditional love," the younger angel stood and brushed his clothing off.

"Those humans corrupted you. Angel's shouldn't have free will; it leads only to evil," Joshua gave a final vindictive as he stood as well.

"And yet, so much good can happen with free will as well. I choose to save the Earth and all of God's most beloved – is that such an evil thing? Truly?" Castiel didn't really expect an answer.

"You turned against us," was the only thing Joshua replied with. Castiel could sense the pain of that betrayal in his brother's voice. He was unsure of a way to repair the damage he had done in his relationships with his Heavenly family.

"Brother, I am going to go now. I will not have any more harsh words spoken between us. We were close once – that we are so far removed from that comrodery saddens me," Castiel spoke from his heart. "Perhaps someday soon we will be able to start to repair this break?"

"I would be amenable to that. Someday," Joshua said with a sigh. The hostility seemed to drain from his body as Castiel watched. "I have missed you as well."

"I will speak with you soon Joshua. Nice Legos btw," Castiel offers a genuine smile as he leaves. "They are a marvelous bit of fun. I should get some for my desk as well. What a good idea."

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

Cas pulled his phone out as soon as he returned to his office. Straight from one battle to the next; that was the life of a solider. Cas just never thought to have as many battles again. His Grace resonated with the excitement. Now it was time to start execution of the first salvo in this little war Dean didn't even know he was in.

_Hello Sknookums –C_

_No Cas. No Sknookums. –D_

_Tiger toes? –C_

_What? No. –D_

_Pumpkin? –C_

_Do you really want to call out Pumpkin right before you come? –D_

_It will not really matter because you decided to no longer actively participate in my orgasms. –C_

There was not a response, but Cas didn't expect one. He opened the gallery and clicked on the first photo. With a deep breath, Cas pressed send.

_The mind is its own place and in itself, can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven_.

They had had Heaven between the two of them. Dean turned it into this weird half Hell with his stupid demands. Castiel knew only one way to fight against things that were unjust. He would go to war.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

AN:

The mind is its own place and in itself, can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven. –John Milton

_"Bless the Lord, ye his angels, that excel in strength, that do his commandments, hearkening unto the voice of his word," – _Psalms 103:20

Also, Legos for the win!


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

_The major difference between a thing that might go wrong and a thing that cannot possibly go wrong is that when a thing that cannot possible go wrong goes wrong it usually turns out impossible to get at and repair_. – Douglas Adams

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

Sam leaned back in his chair and rubbed the back of his neck. He looked around the library and smiled at the cute co-ed he had seen here a few times before. She was extremely well put together – brown hair, blue eyes, and a tight little body.

He knew he could ask her out, and she would say yes. They would date a while, maybe jump into bed, and maybe even wind up with this grand love affair for the ages. She was smart enough to enjoy the library, pretty enough to turn heads, and self-assured enough that she didn't act like an idiot to get his attention.

So, why didn't he just man up and ask her out?

Because. Because her eyes didn't sparkle with crazy excitement when she looked at him. She didn't look crazy at all in fact.

And, as much as he tried to deny it, Sam apparently wanted crazy.

What the hell was wrong with him? When did he turn into the kind of guy that wanted drama and batshit insanity in his everyday life? He remembered very clearly that time when all he wanted was normal.

Now? The thought of normal made his brain hurt with how dull it sounded. He didn't want apple pie, white fence, 2.3 kids, and a dog. He wanted cake smeared across his face because his girl got pissed. He thought instead of a fence, he might actually really enjoy an RV or the bunker with its crazy security. And kids? Well, yeah – okay he still wanted kids one day. But when he pictured raising them, he thought the bunker would make an excellent place for the little rug rats to tear apart. Plus, there were actually some excellent schools in the area.

Oh, and instead of a dog, he wanted one of those hairless cats. They freaked Dean out and would still make him sneeze. Dean had a cute little girl sneeze. Maybe a ferret

Plus, he really had to think about how the little woman would react to blood soaked shirts, ripped pants, and bringing home stitched up gashes more often than roses. Shit, he forgot about the chronic identity theft and serial murders. That would require a whole level of crazy.

Yeah, sweet cute girls he could pick up in the library weren't nearly crazy enough to think that sounded like an excellent long term plan.

Sam needed crazy.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

Twenty four hours. He and Cas had been 'cooling off' for one day, and already Dean was antsy. He would think of something and turn to tell Cas, but Cas wasn't here. He had gone to Heaven to work for the day. And honestly, Dean was glad. He really was happy Cas was taking back some of his responsibilities and taking them seriously. It just sucked because he'd gotten accustomed to having the feather head around all the time. He was bored, and Bobby had finally had enough.

Bobby had suggested going through the basement and clean it up. What Bobby had actually said was more like 'Get off your whiny ass and sort through the shit I left in the basement.' So, Dean trudged down the stairs and started tackling the boxes of crap that for some reason Bobby thought deserved to be saved.

In Bobby's infinite wisdom he had saved a box of romance novels, several pair of waders with holes, sacks of remote controls, and massive airplane propeller. That had been the strange stuff; the really stupid shit had been on a shelf. He had found several curse boxes with no tags to explain the contents, a case of dusty Billy Beer, and twelve old printers. Who kept busted printers? Bobby.

He wanted to talk to Cas now. He was so completely uninterested in doing anything down here, but he knew Cas couldn't, or more accurately shouldn't, leave his post right now. This was part of the plan to restore and hopefully fix Cas' Grace.

Dean pried the lid off an old cardboard board box and yelped. To be fair, he felt it was a very manly yelp. A masculine, strong, and fearsome yelp. Maybe less of a yelp and more of a squeal. Or he was growing a vagina and should stock up on tampons or something.

Inside the box was a flat glass case full of a fluffy white cotton batting. Resting on the batting were way too many sets of glass eyes. Just creepy as fuck.

"Bobby!" Dean screamed.

"What the hell bobby?" Dean pointed at the creepy eyeballs staring up from the box.

"Ha! I'd forgotten about those! Aren't they a riot?" Bobby gave a rare grin. Dean felt conflicted. On the one hand, Bobby wasn't the type of man to be entertained by much, but on the other hand, this wasn't funny.

"Seriously? You kept eyeballs down here? What the hell is in the rest of these boxes you freak?" Dean looked at the remaining stacks of boxes with a wary eye. There could be anything in there.

"Don't talk to me like that. Boy. These were Karen's dads. Lost an eye in the war and started collecting 'em. Ha! He used to trade 'em out with different colors. Drop a couple in a glass of water at parties. He was a damn riot."

"Yeah, sounds like a laugh a minute," Dean snarked. "If I find any more weird shit, I'm taking everything outside and just burning it."

"Don't sass me," Bobby snipped while tipping his head down a little. When Dean was little, that little look use to mean he was about to get his ass handed to him for something. Well not literally, more like Bobby would chew him out and make him feel like shit.

"What else am I going to find in this shit Bobby?" Dean asked seriously. He was genuinely concerned about the contents of these boxes. Some things you just never needed to know about the man who served as the most stable and well-adjusted adult in your life. "Because I gotta say man… If I run across bondage gear I'm never going to be able to look you in the eye again."

"If you found bondage shit you'd use it with your kinky angel. You think it's easy to look either of you in the eye? Damn son, I'm shocked that angels would even do half that stuff," the old man said with a snort.

"Bobby - dude shut up. First, Cas and I agreed to back off the physical stuff for a little bit," Dean figured this was as good a time as any to mention the slight change in their status.

"You broke up with an angel of The Lord? I didn't take you for that stupid. He's the best thing you ever had idjit," Bobby's expression made Dean feel like even more of an asshole - if that was even possible.

"We didn't break up," Dean all but shouted into the musty room. "We agreed to just back off the - ya' know. The physical stuff. Like… stuff. Man, I'm not going to give you a detailed list, ok?"

"And Cas agreed to that? Because I gotta' say Dean, he seems like a kid in the candy store for the first time. Don't see him taking that very well," Bobby said with concern in his voice.

"Yeah, well he didn't exactly, but he agreed," Dean said with a sigh.

"You're an idiot. Don't fuck this up," Bobby looked at him with concern on his face. Suddenly Dean felt his throat tighten. While being a Winchester had been more of a curse than a blessing, Bobby Singer was one of the biggest blessings Dean had ever been given. In truth, Bobby had long replaced John as the father figure in his mind. John was his father, but Bobby was his Dad.

And God must have heard some prayers from the scared and grieving boy Dean had been, because no matter what hell had been thrown at him, Bobby was there. Bobby may have died, but even that hadn't stopped him from being there for Dean. He was the rock Dean had clung to when he'd felt the world slip out from under his feet.

Fuck, what would he do without Bobby around? Thank God, sometimes prayers got answered; without the old man, Dean was fairly sure he would have gone off the deep end a long time ago.

"We agreed to back up and slow down. We need to figure this Grace stuff out," Dean said pulling himself out of his daze. His phone beeped, and he pulled it out. A text message from Cas. Cool.

Pulling the message up, Dean groaned. It was a photo from last week of Dean kneeling between Cas legs. Cas had been curious about how to use the camera and wanted a picture of Dean like the ones Dean had taken of the angel.

"Yeah, I can see how agreeable he was to that," Bobby laughed before popping away to wherever he went.

Damn it Cas!

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

Cas grinned as his phone dinged with Dean's response.

_Aren't you supposed be working? –D_

_No. I have a meeting later, but right now I am linking paper clips together in one huge chain. –C_

_Why would you do that? –D_

_Because I am going to replace Joshua's paperclips with these. Also, I find it relaxing. –C_

_Okay man. Just no more pictures of us doing stuff like that, k? –D_

_I promise. No more pictures of us doing stuff like that. I can send other pictures though, correct? –C_

_Sure thing angel cakes –D_

_I am not a baked dessert Dean. That is the stupidest term of endearment ever. I think I would like to call you Mr. Man. Is that acceptable? –C_

_Mr. Man? WTF Cas? –D_

_WTF? I do not understand that acronym. I will look it up. –C_

_What The Fuck or World Taekwondo Federation. Only the first one makes sense in the context above. –C_

_I don't like Mr. Man –D_

_I will keep trying. -C_

There were any number of terms of endearments Cas could pick from. Currently, he was favoring ones that showed how sweet he thought Dean was, but it was not going very well thus far. He would just keep trying.

Cas started flipping through his pictures. He had taken some time last night planning this opening volley against Dean's ridiculous no touching rule. There was a careful line that had to be followed. Nothing too audacious, and nothing too subtle. And sending the first one of himself and Dean drew the exact reaction he expected. Now he had Dean pinned down with an absolute of what was and was not allowed in texting pictures. Dean would either learn quickly to be more careful, or Cas would win this battle quickly.

He had taken a series of rather inappropriate photos that had been staged for maximum effectiveness. It had been nerve racking and exciting. He'd thought about what would happen when Dean opened them up. There was a very small outside possibility that the hunter would be angry, but honestly that was extremely remote. The most likely outcome would be Dean getting flustered and requiring a few minutes alone in the bathroom.

The only drawback was Cas would be unable to see Dean's reaction.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

Dean kept pulling boxes open and sorting shit into keep, toss, and donate piles. The thought occurred to him that he would actually have a lot of space down here; that led to thinking about what they should use that space for. Maybe some workout equipment? Or a home theater? If he found any bondage crap he could set up a sex dungeon.

**Ding**_._

He pulled his phone from his back pocket and opened the message from Cas. Message downloading. What the hell was Cas sending him this time? Last week had seen the arrival of dozens of LOLcats. Cas had attached a short message to each explaining how he got the joke, how he didn't get the joke, or asking why this one cat was so grumpy.

They had started texting a lot in the past few months, well before any mushy stuff started. As much as Dean hated to admit it, texting was kinda' fun. It was easy to send, didn't require a huge time commitment like a phone call could, and didn't have to be about anything important.

He looked down as the picture popped up. It was Cas just standing in front of the mirror on the back of Dean's door in his room. Dean snorted. Yes Cas, I remember what you look like. The cats, as annoying as they had been, were at least something different. Dean put the phone back in his pocket. His angel was so random sometimes.

**Ding.**

Dean groaned as he pulled the phone out, ready to tell Cas to go back to work. The photo loaded and showed a smiling angel holding a sign that said 'Happy Anniversary!' Wait, what anniversary?! Shit shit shit shit. Dean tried to think of what Cas was talking about. Having not been in many relationships, Dean wasn't sure of which ones might be important or what to do when you forgot one. Shit.

_Happy anniversary feathers! –D_

Sure, just a general all-encompassing statement. That might work, right?

**Ding**.

The next picture showed Cas unbuttoning his white shirt, a sliver of skin showing between the gaps in the fabric. Well, that was new. Cas was going to try and send sexy pictures? Sure, an angel would be great at that.

**Ding**.

Oh. A pile of dirty clothes. Excellent Cas. Was this a reminder to do laundry? Hold up… Holy. Shit. Those were Cas' clothes in a pile. Which meant Cas was somewhere behind the camera naked. Naked naked naked. Okay, he needed to just not respond to these texts. Taking pictures like that weren't something that good angels should be doing. Right?

Of course, Gabriel had managed to wipe out whole towns and have sex with an entire tropical island without it affecting his powers. Plus, Cas was pretty positive sex stuff wasn't tied to the Grace drop or whatever. Still, better to just leave it alone for now. Maybe they could talk later.

**Ding**.

No. Oh hell no. It was a picture of Cas' ass. His perfect tight ass.

_Dude – I said no dirty pictures! –D_

_No, you said no dirty pictures of __us__. –C_

_It's the same thing. –D_

_No, you agreed to anything but naughty pictures of __us__. Read your text log if you have forgotten. Unless you don't want to honor the various agreements we have made in the last few days? -C_

_You're evil. ;) –D_

_There has to be evil so that good can prove its purity above it. –C_

_Huh? -D_

**Ding**.

Fuck. The picture showed Cas with his head thrown back, mouth open as if in a moan. His shoulders were bare, and Dean could almost hear the breathy little pants that were surely coming out of Cas' mouth.

You know what? Screw this. If Cas wanted to give him an anniversary gift like this, then Dean would be an asshole to not enjoy it.

"Bobby, where ever you are go away. I'm about to act like a heathen again!" the hunter yelled into the empty basement. If Bobby heard great, if not… well, Dean tried. So he leaned against the wall and unbuttoned his pants, letting them drop to his ankles.

**Ding**.

Time to enjoy the show; this picture of Cas showed his bare chest. It showed his long graceful fingers pinching his nipple. Dean groaned into the empty basement and pulled his shirt up. He slowly circled his own nipple before pinching it hard.

God, he loved it when Cas did that. And fuck, that picture showed the hollow at his collar bone and for the life of him all Dean wanted at that moment was to sink his teeth in that perfect skin and suck a dark red mark.

**Ding**.

Oh Fuck! The picture was of Cas' cock! Well, not all of it. His hand was gripping it around the base and Dean could see his balls and tops of his thighs. The head was out of frame, but Dean could picture the bead of pre come. He licked his lips.

The hunter ran his hands down his chest and cupped his own balls, rolling them around lazily. His thumb nail grazed over his slit before he pulled the skin around his dick down. He stretched it down enough to make his whole cock throb under the pressure.

**Ding**.

Dean's breath caught and he started moving his fist in earnest now. His angel had sent him a picture of his stomach. Laying from the belly button up the chest bone were translucent stripes of come.

"You fucker," the hunter grunted as his eyes stayed on that picture; Cas had said he had never done that alone before. And he'd just done it for Dean. His angel had thought about him, jacked off, and taken pictures.

"Shit – so fucking hot baby," Dean muttered as his orgasm screamed up from his balls, and he came on himself. He slumped against the wall and tried to catch his breath.

Damn it. He used his shirt to clean up and tossed it in the pile of ever growing dirty laundry next to the washing machine.

How the fuck was he supposed to deal with a horny adventurous angel? Shit. And anyway, when did turning down an offer of sexy times turn into his life? For a moment Dean considered slamming his head against the metal panic room door.

Maybe it was because he had told himself that they wouldn't do anything more than small kisses. Maybe it was because Dean was a fucking idiot. There was also an outside possibility Dean had actually been taken over by a skin walker, but as of this moment, the only thing he wanted to do was plow into Cas' body and fuck him like the Earth was ending. Again.

Oh shit. He still had to figure out what anniversary he had forgotten again. Fuck his life.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

AN:

Grumpy cat – an online meme of a grumpy looking cat that just throws a wet blanket on everything. Also, I love him, but he doesn't care.

The quote from Cas text message about the purity of good (_There has to be evil so that good can prove its purity above it.)_ is an actual quote from Buddha.

Mr. Man – a cartoon character on the AWESOME show Animaniacs called Mindy (from Button and Mindy) called her mom "Lady" and dad "Mr. Man". Voiced by Nancy Cartwright who also does Bart Simpson.

Also, any clue who Sam's thinking about?


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

_Show me show me show me how you do that trick, the one that makes me scream she said, the one that makes me laugh she said. Threw her arms around my neck, "Show me how you do it and I promise you I promise that I'll run away with you."_ – Robert Smith

**S-S-S-S-S**

She hadn't texted yesterday or last week. Not that he cared, but he hadn't blocked her number because it kind of helped that she still regretted what she had done to him. And her apology coming via text every Sunday at lunchtime had become a kind of passive way for him to keep track of his… ex-wife? Whatever. Seemed like Dean wasn't the only one with trouble naming relationships.

Not that they had a relationship. He just kept tabs on her. In case she decided to drug him again.

Becky Rosen née Winchester. She was batshit crazy. Dean hated her, and with every reason. Sam thought he might have hated her. Of course he hated her. Because she drugged him. And she did it to force him to marry her. She didn't skin him or anything, which really, he would have totally allowed her to do while under that potion.

That potion. God, if he ever needed proof the world was cruel, that was it. He remembered every moment from the second he laid eyes on her after the first dose. He remembered her smile, their first kiss.

And how seriously fucked up was that? He remembered kissing his stalker, and he replayed it in his head. Not because he loved her or missed her, but because the potion created this feeling of such bliss and happiness. For the first time in his life he had been completely happy. Nothing weighed on his shoulders, nothing in his head or heart but his complete and utter contentment to hold the women in his arms and make her happy.

So, yeah – the potion was well out of his system, but the memory of her expression lingered on. She felt the same way. About him, but without chemical help. That was a pretty powerful feeling. So batshit insane Becky, who was messed up six ways to Sunday was also capable of deep love.

Which was stupid. Deep ever-lasting true love didn't drug somebody. He played these thoughts through his head every Sunday when her text arrived.

'_I'm sorry_.' That's all it ever said. No more, no less. And he could have blocked her number, but he never did.

Where did that leave him? Crazy stalker not texting you? The normal reaction was NOT to worry about her. On the other hand, Sam was pretty far from normal; so maybe that was it. And crazy stalker girl had also put Sam's welfare and free will above her love when she declined the deal with that demon. In the back of his head, Sam was still pretty in awe that she had done that. He wasn't sure he would have done the same if he'd been in the same situation and it had been Jessica.

Well, back then anyway. Now, he liked to think he could walk away without much of a problem.

It was after ten, and the house was quickly shutting down. Dean was watching something stupid on TV, because he rarely watched anything of any value. Cas was most likely lying next to Dean. Or on him. Honestly, Sam had just been avoiding the house when Dean and Cas were home for the past week. Wow, that whole thing was kinda' getting out of hand. Like they needed to get their house. The light bulb situation was totally unreasonable, and frankly the smug grin Dean would get made Sam want to punch his brother in the face.

His phone shut off in his hand, and he pulled his laptop over. Pulling up Live Journal he checked for any updates. She had stopped posting her wincest, but recently her original work had been leaning toward a darker theme of forgiveness and denial. The first time he saw she'd updated, he'd felt his belly flip. It was a weird way they were connected that she didn't know about, but it was still kinda' cool. But after reading the first part, he's gut had dropped.

Her newest work was about how a girl had destroyed her relationship with her love. Duh, him. And while it never went into any of the details, she was deeply remorseful. Like on a deep level that Sam wasn't even sure he was capable of. What was that damn line that sucked the breath from him every time he read it? And yes, he reread her writing. Shut up.

_"Maybe heartbreak was price she would pay for the rest of her life. It almost didn't seem like a high enough price."_

That had actually scared Sam a little. He'd created his own LJ account under the name Licks4MePls and sent her a message about her writing and generally upbeat and encouraging. Okay, the name was stupid as hell, but in his defense screen names were meant to be a little dumb. Plus, he couldn't think of anything else at the time.

She had responded, and they actually emailed sometimes when she updated. There had not been an update for well over two weeks; that was unusual for her. What if she was sick or dead or possessed? Did she have a tattoo? Shit, even Dean had thought about the tattoo to protect Cas. Here Sam was, possession expert and vessel to Satan himself, not even thinking about protecting his wife. His ex-wife. His stalker ex-wife with the sparkling eyes and sweetest lips.

As an ex/annulled husband, he needed to check on her. Sure, whatever. He picked his phone up and pulled her contact up.

And that was it. He sat there not knowing what the hell to text. 'Hey Becky – still batshit?' or 'Hey Becks – just worried about you, because I'm batshit'? Maybe… 'Hey Becky – Dean and Cas decided to make the fandoms happy and are currently getting raunchy on the sofa downstairs.' Or the one that would under no circumstances be sent – 'Becky, I jack off thinking about kissing you.'

Dean was sure she had raped him. He had gone on and on about how chemically making him wanting sex did not equal consent. But the most she had done was take his shirt off, kissed him, and cuddled up close. She had mostly just wanted to touch him and listen to him talk about how much he loved her.

The one time he had tried to have sex with her, right after their Vegas shotgun wedding, he had been shocked. He had gone to the bathroom well after they'd fallen asleep holding tight to each other. His middle of the night wood had turned into a raging hard on, so he'd stripped down to his birthday suit and crawled back into bed with his wife.

God, he was getting hard thinking about. He'd pulled her gown up above her breasts, and pulled her panties down off her long legs. He'd left the bathroom light on so he could look his fill. The smell of her sex had filled his nose when he'd pulled the little scrap of cotton down her toned thighs. Her neatly trimmed little area begging for his attention.

Sam palmed himself through his pajamas. Damn. He had buried his face between her legs, hitching one over his shoulder, and fucking gone to town. He didn't go down on one night stands, and frankly it had been way too long since he'd enjoyed his favorite foreplay.

Becky had woken with his tongue lapping at her clit, one finger working her channel, and his name screaming off her tongue as she came. Sweet, musky, and addictive as hell. Better than demon blood – her hands in his hair, trying to pull him off, while begging him. Just flat out begging, not to stop, not to go faster. Just like a prayer. '_Oh Sam, Sam! This, Sam – please… please Sam!' _At the time, he had thought it was her begging him to send her over the edge again, and he had humped his dick into the mattress and came like a stupid teenager with his first girlfriend. But she had been trying to get him out from between her legs. His sober mind knew she was trying to be virtuous. She didn't want the magically compelled sex.

His dick twitched as he pulled his pants down. God, her taste was still on his mind after all this time. When he jacked off, he thought about how much he wanted to taste her again. He wondered if things would be different now that he wasn't high as a kite with that love potion. And screw it! It was his damn head, his dick, and if he wanted to think about her while getting himself off, that was his own business.

Thinking about her lush lips skimming down his chest, flicking his nipple with her tongue before coming back up and crushing his lips. The way her body melted into him. Her hair spread over his shoulder as she laid her head on him to fall asleep holding on his waist, leg thrown over his. She was exactly his match in the sleep cuddling department. Full contact, full time.

And when he'd woken up after tasting her, hard again, he had been spooning her small body. His dick was hard against her firm ass, his fingers cupping her breast. God, her breasts where a perfect fit in his large hands. He had started roll her nipple between his fingers through the thin cotton of her nightdress. Her sleepy little breathless sounds had started his hips rocking into her bottom. She'd woken up moments later and trying to leave, but his hands had held her hips.

It briefly occurred to Sam that he might have a kink about waking women up with sex. Was that a thing? Whatever, he'd only done that to Becky, so it probably was an effect of the potion

God – the words he'd whispered into her ear. About how much he wanted to lay her out on the bed; he wanted her screaming his name. She'd let out a startled gaspy moan as her hips thrust back into his. He kept talking to her. Whispering about how good she smelled. How he wanted her sitting in his lap riding him, her breasts bouncing, head thrown back, and yelling herself hoarse.

He had come against her back moaning her name and kissing her neck. She had run into the bathroom to change her clothing and shower. He hadn't thought about it at the time, but she'd locked the door. God, even when being an evil stalker fangirl, she'd tried to be a good person.

He picked up his pace and started stripping his cock with harsh strokes. That edge of pain, of wildness and forbidden. Sam bit his lip as he came on his chest with her name swallowed under the moan.

Fucking Becky Rosen Winchester.

After cleaning himself up, he grabbed his phone.

_Not sorry anymore? –S_

_Sam? –B_

_Yep –S_

_Of course I am. My therapist said I should leave you alone. –B_

_I don't like your therapist –S_

_You don't know him –B_

Him? He was trying to get Becky to leave him alone. Asshole. What the hell did that idiot even know about their relationship? He certainly didn't know what Sam did for a living or about the demon or any of the books. Well, maybe the books.

_Shouldn't you ask me if I want to be left alone? –S_

There was no response. Sam waited a few minutes before deciding to go grab a beer. Ew, Cas and Dean were cuddling on the sofa. They needed their own house - maybe even their own county. He wanted Dean to be happy, and Cas was perfect for him, but there was just TMI with the light bulbs. He did not need to know every time Cas got off. Just… Ew. We could barely make eye contact with either of them lately without his cheeks flaming bright red and Dean oh so helpfully pointing it out.

He snuck past them and went back upstairs. She still had not replied. Damn it.

_Becky? –S_

_Who is this? –B_

_It's Sam. –S_

_No, it's not. I don't know why you took his phone, but please leave me alone. You don't even know how cruel it is to tease me like this. I am trying to get over that part of my life. –B_

Oh. Sam hadn't thought about it like that. While he was fantasizing about Becky riding him to save a couple of horses, she was trying to forget him.

_It is Sam. You had white roses, your wedding band was a plain gold one, and you tweeted walking out of the chapel after marrying me. You hog tied me to a bed and I secretly thought it was a little hot. –S_

_Oh –B_

_Oh? –S_

_I'm sorry –B_

_You okay? –S_

_Of course. –B_

She was lying. Sam had no idea how he knew, but she was. And he couldn't even figure out why he cared.

Without pausing to consider the wisdom of it, he dialed her number.

"- Hello?" came the hesitate voice from the other end. Yeah, she'd been crying.

"Come on Becks, don't cry," he spoke softly, like they didn't have this messed up history.

"Why are you calling me Sam?" she asked quietly, clearly trying to control the quiver in her voice.

"I – I'm not sure honestly," Sam knew it sounded lame. "Where are you?"

"My bedroom?" It was said like a question.

"I mean, what city," Sam clarified.

"Oh. I'm in Jefferson City in Missouri staying with my cousin for a while. I got a job, and he needed a roommate," Becky said, clearly more comfortable with that.

"Yeah, that's not that far – like four hours," Sam said as he mentally laid a route out.

"Only you would think four hours wasn't far away," she let a little laugh escape.

"Well, you know me –," Sam said.

"Yeah. Um. I never actually… I am so sorry Sam. I really am. I feel so awful. I messed up so bad, and everything that happened. I never should have even gone through with it. And I just – I feel like I… God I am so sorry. It was bad enough that I kissed you, but then everything else that we did. I just can't believe I did that. I feel so dirty and like I should go turn myself in to the police or something. That's why I'm seeing my therapist – Dr. Katz."

"I'm not sure you remember…" Sam tried to interject while she was still in full-apology mode. It didn't work so well.

"Oh I do. I took full advantage of your state. And I am so sorry Sam. I just can't even believe I did that. Those things were wrong and it wasn't – I stole your freedom and your ability to say no. Sam, I all but raped you. And I just can't…" She broke off in full blown sobs. Well hell. In his mind she had always been merciless crazy Becky with the smoking hot ass. He'd never even thought about how the fall-out from that shit had affected her. But – she'd made the right choices in the end. And she'd killed to save him.

Not a whole hell of a lot of people he knew could say somebody had killed to save them. Well, yes – okay he actually knew a lot of people who killed to save people. And they actually did it a lot. Fuck, his best friends, family, and role models were all serial killers, but Becky was a normal girl who had made her first kill to save him. That was a big fucking deal.

"Hey, Becks?" Sam asked when her diatribe finally tapered off.

"Yeah, I'm so-" she started again with a sniffle.

"Wanna' go out to dinner on Friday?" he blurted out.

Complete silence. Sam didn't even hear her breathing. Shit, did his phone drop the call? Glancing down he saw it was almost full bars and still connected to the call.

"Why?" she blurted out. "I mean, why would you even want to see me again?"

"I dunno', but I just really think we should have dinner on Friday, that's all," God, Dean was going to fucking go nuts. Sam might actually be nuts. This was the girl who had drugged him and wrote fiction about him fucking his brother. And who looked at him like he hung the moon, and killed a demon, and refused to run to safety, and lied her way into getting another demon into a devil trap she set on fire, and who made the sweetest sounds when she came, and tasted like heaven. And who had been apologizing for months and months and was even looking for help to deal with her guilt over her actions.

"Oh." Becky finally said.

"So, yes? No?" Sam started fidgeting. He was actually nervous, and he hadn't been nervous around girls since high school.

"I don't think so Sam," she said quietly. Shit! She was dating somebody? Or she didn't like him anymore. That fucking Dr. Katz. Sam pulled his laptop over and started searching for that quack doctor.

"Why not?" he all but snarled. "Are you seeing somebody?"

"No," she said it so softly Sam wasn't sure if she was telling the truth.

"If you're seeing that psycho shrink of yours Becks, I swear I'm going to gank him," Sam's voice rose.

"Sam, he's older than my father. No. I'm not seeing anybody. I just don't even understand why you called," she replied and Sam took a deep breath. What. The. Fuck. What was going on with him?

"Look, unless you actively hate me now, I'm coming to take you to dinner on Friday. We can go get Chinese, ok?" He remembered her ordering some in Vegas.

"I don't hate you, of course not-"

"Then 7, okay? Text me the address to pick you up, alright?"

"Um, yeah. Okay," she sounded a little like a truck that hit her. Sam felt more than a little smug about that.

"See you Friday Becks – sleep tight," he said with a grin and hung up after her confused little night-night Sam.

A minute later Sam was pacing his room. What the hell. Seriously, he wasn't even sure what had just happened. He never had to force a girl into a date like that, and he never thought he would want a date with his #1 fangirl! Becky Rosen. Winchester.

Well, Sam was anything but normal. His girlfriends were either burned on the ceiling, evil with addicting demon blood, or died in other various twisted ways. And he'd been a vessel for the source of evil AND pissed off Heaven and Hell. Plus, he was technically a serial killer and had been on the FBIs most wanted list. So, trying to get a date with his ex-stalker was actually pretty normal considering his track record.

Plus, he had a feeling Becky wouldn't blink twice at bloody pants or living in the bunker. Not that he was thinking about forever, but still.

**S-S-S-S-S**

This was Dean's least favorite part of hunting. You would think it was getting the snot kicked out of him or witches. While witches sucked and he seriously hated them, at least they weren't bone meltingly dull.

"Cutie?" Cas asked.

"Like an orange or a baby? No." Dean replied shifting in his seat again.

He and Cas sat in the car watching an old building. They were waiting for signs that the local demon that had been harvesting virgins had returned. It seemed to show up every full moon. Tonight was the night before the full moon, but you never knew when demons would show up.

"Sugar Daddy?"

"Dude! Do you even know what that means?" Dean looked at his angel and knew from the look on his face he didn't. "Just, no. Not that one – you know you don't have to have a nickname for me, right?"

"So you have stated before. Stud?"

"Pass," was all Dean said as he swallowed the weary sigh he felt bubble up.

"Cowboy?" Cas asked.

"That's not awful, but it doesn't really sound like a pet name. Sounds like a job, ya' know?" Dean explained while looking out the window. So boring.

"I only have four more: Cuddlebug, Honey Bunny, Muffin, or Romeo." Cas turned and looked expectantly at Dean.

"No, absolutely not, that's a breakfast food, and I knew a guy named Romeo so that would be fucked up," Dean winked. "How about staying away from food in general?"

"That sounds like a reasonable request," Cas said before lapsing into a comfortable silence.

Well, comfortable for the angel anyway. Dean was restless. He wanted to talk about those pictures. Fuck! He wanted to talk about his feelings about the pictures – He might as well sit here and start planning the flowers and color scheme for his wedding. Jesus, when did he become a girl like Sam?

Dean kept stealing glances at his angel and running through various ways to start the conversation he needed to have. Things would have been simpler if Cas had been acting like guilty, like he knew he'd been wrong to start that shit. But he was just sitting there like nothing in the world was wrong.

Shake it off Winchester. Man up and ask your angel what he was doing sending you photos like that.

_Cas, No more sexy pictures – I like them. _That sounded stupid.

_Dude, you broke your promise! – _Only, Cas hadn't promised to not send photos. In fact, Dean was having trouble remembering exactly what Cas had promised.

_So, when we agreed to back off, what did you say exactly? I wasn't paying attention - _That had the potential for an argument that would end in Dean being the asshole. It was true of course, but still.

_I have an idea! Why don't we go over the exact terms again? Just for fun – _That might work if Cas were stupid. Which, unfortunately, he wasn't.

He was screwed. He remembered agreeing to kiss Cas sometimes. Sweet kisses. And he remembered feeling like he had won, but Cas had agreed awfully easily in hindsight.

"Dean, just ask. Whatever you are thinking about is causing you to be restless. It is distracting," Cas said not taking his eyes off the warehouse.

"Right. I thought we were on the same page! And then you sent me all those pictures – which by the way babe, super-hot – but we agreed damn it!" Dean felt lost.

"Did you enjoy them?" the angel asked; his smile showed how badly he wanted Dean's approval.

"They were great Cas – Happy Anniversary to you too," Dean winked at his boyfriend/partner/boy toy.

"Did you keep them?" Cas asked looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"Of course I did!" Dean exclaimed. Like he would be deleting the best spank material he'd ever seen.

"Have you looked at them again," Cas was weirdly excited about those pictures. Dean had to think for a second if he was missing anything in this conversation.

"Yeah, I may have glanced a time or two," Dean hedged.

"Would you like more? I can take more. I found it very liberating to photograph myself when I was aroused. I understand why the pizza man did not mind the cameras filming him during sex. We could do that together if you wish," Cas' smile was bordering on a leer. Holy Shit. His angel was thinking about making actual porn now. With him. And fuck if Dean's cock didn't think that was an excellent idea.

"We agreed no sex remember – and those photos were over the line babe," Dean said as his dick tried to stage a revolt and take over his mouth. Could a penis actually possess a person and force them to say things?

"Actually, no; we agreed to no making out, no sexual touching, and no dating other people until a solution or of resolution is found," Cas repeated the agreement much to Dean's relief. Fuck.

"I think we should add no photos. Taking naked pictures of yourself surely isn't going to help you with the Grace supply thing, right?"

"I don't feel any different today, so I don't think you're correct. But if you would rather I not do that again until this situation is sorted out, I will agree to your new condition. Of course, you will have to make a concession as well," Cas offered.

"Like what?" Dean was damned if he wouldn't get all the fine print this time.

"Nothing too onerous. I would simply like to have the no sexual touching thing defined. Am I allowed to hug you? Can we hold hands?" Cas asked.

"Of course we can do that stuff," Dean had to remind himself over and over again that no matter how hot Cas was in bed, he was still new to this.

"So, it is more like no sexual touching 'below the belt'," Cas used the stupid air quotes. "And in exchange, I agree to not send naked pictures via text messaging."

"Yeah, that sounds about right, only you have to agree to no naked pictures via text OR email. And no printing them out. You know what, no pictures at all." Dean couldn't remember the last time he had worked this hard to deny himself sexually.

"As you wish. No pictures, except of animals doing cute things," Cas bargained.

"Okay, but no animal sex Cas – okay? Absolutely no animal sex pictures. Okay? Agreed?" Dean felt panic rise in his chest. Cas could be kinda' weird sometimes, and Dean's dick would fall off and run away if he started getting horse cock in his inbox.

"Agreed. Is this the time we kiss to seal the new agreement?" Cas smiled at him and maybe it was the moonlight, but Dean felt himself smiling in return. This angel was just perfect in about every single way Dean could think of.

"Ah…" Dean rubbed the back of his neck before nodding.

Cas looked around the front seat and said, "I think we should sit in the back."

"No way man. The back seat is just asking for trouble," Dean shook his head.

"Hmm," Cas looked between them and bit his lip while thinking. Damn it – Dean was in so much trouble.

"Come here," Dean put his hand on the back of Cas' neck and pulled him into a closed mouth kiss. Before Dean could start to pull away, Cas let out a little whimper in the back of his throat. It sounded needy and went straight through Dean.

Dean twisted in his seat and wrapped another arm around the angel, pulling him closer. Cas moved his body as close as the confines of the Impala would allow and rested his hands on Dean's chest as he leaned his body weight on the hunter.

"Baby," was all Dean could get out. Cas' flicked his tongue out and slowly licked the seam of Dean's lips. Instead of opening his mouth and plundering his angel's sweet mouth, Dean kissed his way across Cas' jawline until he could nip at the angel's earlobe. Cas' fingers dug into Dean's shirt.

"Dean – more," Cas begged in a half broken voice. Dean awkwardly reached under his seat and pulled the bar that let the seat slide all the way back. He pulled Cas into his lap as far as he possibly could; Dean was sure the wheel was digging into the small of Cas' back, but it didn't seem to put a damper on the kiss.

Cas allowed his body to be moved by the hunter and damn if the willingness to submit didn't make Dean fucking hot. All that badass soldier doing exactly what Dean wanted, fluid movements, compliance, and obeying Dean's every whim. Fuck, he could make Cas slow down and just kiss. Not like kissing was actually making out, right?

"Back seat, but remember – nothing below the waist, ok?" Dean growled as Cas quickly nodded. Dean opened the door and got out with Cas scrambling over the seat and getting out on the same side. Before Dean could even open the back door, Cas had the hunter pinned against the car.

The strangled moan Cas let loose as he pressed himself flush against Dean tore through the night.

"Quiet Cas, we're looking for that demon man," Dean knew as soon as he said it Cas probably had it covered.

"Nothing in a few square miles of us except a man walking a dog. The man wants to go back inside and the dog wants to find the bitch in heat that he's caught wind of," Cas whispered against Dean's neck before kissing the skin.

"Ah," was all Dean managed. Fuck. Their groins were pressing together, each circling and grinding.

"Baby, we can't do this…" Dean begged as Cas brought his arms around the hunter's neck.

"It is a hug. A modified hug, combined with a kiss, and no hands below the waist," Cas reasoned.

Dean let out an unbelieving snort before grabbing Cas' arms and pulling them around and holding them pinned at the small of his back.

"Just to make sure you follow the rules," Dean explained before he pressed his lips against his angel's. "Fuck you taste good – missed this."

Cas thrust his hips and Dean could feel the full hard length straining against his hip. He tightened his hold on Cas, wrists and moaned. His traitorous pelvis rolled against the hard line of Cas' cock, bringing Dean's already half hard dick to full attention.

With a quick twist, Cas freed himself and grabbed the sides of Dean shirt and started to pull.

"No babe," Dean mumbled as he grabbed his angel's arms again and flipped them around; Cas now had his arms pinned behind his body and pressed against the car.

Their lips collided with hungry kisses; each demanding more and more from the other as the night got colder. Cas' body arched into Dean in a sinuous roll causing the hunter to gasp.

"Shit Cas – Fuck," was all he could get out before he started flat out rocking his fully clothed cock against the angel's.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

"Aren't supposed to do this," Dean growled. Cas heard the beginnings of anger in Dean's voice. Not anger at Cas, but fury as himself for being weak and giving in. The guilt would make Cas' plans harder. So Cas pulled back.

He pulled his wrists free and placed a hand on either of Dean's shoulders as he took a deep breath and leaned his forehead against the hunter's shoulder in a sign of contrition.

"I am sorry. I got carried away and violated our agreement," Cas took all the blame on himself. He felt it was more mutual agreement to violate the agreement, but pointing that out would not serve his greater cause.

Everything was about Cas' end goal of victory over Dean's insistence that being apart would return Cas to the Host in full. The photos? He had toyed with different approaches and found the same flaw in each one. Dean would not look at the photos due to his resolve to 'help' Cas. Therefore, Cas had simply provided a secondary bit of information to overwhelm the first issue with a second and more immediate problem.

Dean had forgotten an anniversary. Every man knew that was about the worst thing ever; there had been no way Dean would turn down Cas' gift of photos in that context. It had worked like a charm. And the coda to that little plan was this – there was no anniversary, and Dean would never know because he couldn't admit to Cas that he had no clue. Elegant and simple with very few variables. It had worked perfectly.

**S-S-S-S-S-S**

AN –

Opening quote: The Cure "Just Like Heaven". I always wondered what the trick he wanted to see that made her laugh AND scream was. ;)

Dr. Katz – Extra rock salt for you if you got the reference.

Sammy and Becky – Not your usual ship I'm sure, but sometimes it's fun to see what happens on another cruise line. I can cut it short if you, the dear reader, really dislike it. It's mostly written already, only a few scenes. Sam is totally conflicted, Becky thinks something must be wrong with him, there are a couple of bitches from the office, and it's rather , and Becky isn't a weak willed chic flick girl in general. She's crazy, but crazy badass.

Oh, well sweet and smutty because of course it is. Just know, it's an entertaining little side story while our main two lover boys get their collective shit together! Totally afraid the various ships are gunna' come after me with their cannons =/

Thoughts?


End file.
